


Stranded

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 38,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8078806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Archer and Reed struggle to survive after being stranded on a planet.  (06/02/2005)





	1. PART 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: I started writing this about a year ago after a discussion with a friend about various Star Trek fanfic premises. One of my favorites is the 'stranded' theme where two characters end up stuck alone on a planet. Usually these fics contain at least some of the following standard elements: a shuttle crash, the need to find shelter (usually in a cave), dangerous animals (or aliens), someone getting sick or injured, some situation in which the characters have to share body heat or get naked and (of course) a realized attraction. Despite their commonalities, many of the 'stranded' fics I've read are very original and well written. I decided to try to write one myself; and my friend asked me if I would make it an Archer/Reed story. I don't know how successful I was in writing a good story, but I sure had a lot of fun doing it.  
  
The quotes in the main body of this story are from: "The Iliad" by Homer (1990 translation by R. Fagles); "The Jungle Book" by Rudyard Kipling; and "Purgatorio" by Dante Alighieri (1980 translation by C.H. Sisson).  
  
My thanks to MeanOldCow who read through this monster numerous times and made great suggestions. Any mistakes that remain are mine and mine alone.  


* * *

**PART 1**

_Midway on our life's journey, I found myself In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell About those woods is hard--so tangled and rough_

_And savage that thinking of it now, I feel The old fear stirring: death is hardly more bitter. And yet, to treat the good I found there as well_

_I'll tell what I saw..._

\--"Inferno" by Dante Alighieri (1994 translation by R. Pinsky)

__________________________________

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was in the middle of his preflight check when he heard the scuff of a boot on the deck plating. He didn't bother to turn around. "About time you got here, Travis." He said cheerfully. "Stow your things and get started on your preflight so we can get moving."

"In a hurry are we, Malcolm?" An amused voice replied. Reed froze for a second then turned, scrambling to his feet to face Captain Jonathan Archer. 

"Forgive me, sir. I thought you were Ensign Mayweather." 

"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Malcolm. Travis is in sickbay with a broken wrist." 

"Oh." Reed said, trying to hide his disappointment. He had been looking forward to working with the new weapons system on the shuttlepod. "I suppose the tests will have to wait then." 

"No they won't." The smug tone in Archer's voice set off a small alarm in Reed's mind. "I found you another pilot." 

"Oh?" Reed asked neutrally. 

"I'm going to fill in for Travis. It will be nice to get off the ship for a while." 

"You, sir?" Reed's internal alarm escalated into a full- scale tactical alert. 

"What's the matter, Malcolm? You don't trust my piloting skills?" 

"No, I trust you, sir." He said faintly. "But what about the diplomatic mission on Hastri Four?" 

"I'm sure Trip and T'Pol can handle it without me." Archer said with a grin. 

"Of course." Reed agreed without enthusiasm. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. He would have to spend the next three days stuck in the tiny shuttlepod with Archer. It wouldn't be so bad if the man just knew when to back off and leave well enough alone. Reed didn't understand Archer's need to be a friend as well as a captain to his crew and found Archer's little 'getting to know you' sessions wearying beyond belief. He suppressed a sigh as Archer dropped into the pilot's seat. It was going to be a long three days.

__________________________________

Reed listened to Archer's small talk with increasing annoyance. He kept his face carefully neutral and made polite noises, all the while wishing he could simply tell Archer to shut up. He was extremely grateful when the comm beeped and interrupted the interminable conversation. "Enterprise to Shuttlepod One." Trip Tucker's voice came clearly through the comm.

"Shuttlepod One, here." Archer responded. 

"Capt'n, we're preparing to go to warp. We'll be back for you in three days. Good luck with the tests." 

"Thanks, Trip. We'll see you then. Archer out." Reed made good use of the interruption. By the time Archer closed the comm link, he had managed to whip out a PADD and focus his attention on the weapon schematics therein, effectively cutting off any further conversation. Archer gave a small sigh. Reed steadfastly ignored it and continued to stare at the schematics, not wanting to give Archer even the slightest opportunity to start another pointless chat about sports or hobbies.

__________________________________

"Malcolm? Malcolm? Lieutenant Reed!" Reed gave a start and looked up from his PADD, embarrassed to have been caught woolgathering.

"Sir?" 

"We're here." Archer said. "Are you ready to put those weapons of yours through their paces?" 

"Of course, sir." Reed replied as he set aside the PADD and brought the new weapons online. "Would you like to pick out our first target?" He asked politely as they surveyed the asteroid field. 

"How about that one?" Archer said, indicating a small asteroid on the tactical display. Reed nodded and locked the targeting scanners onto the tumbling rock. 

Archer and Reed spent the next few hours eradicating asteroids and making adjustments to the system. As another rock blew apart, Reed frowned at the data stream in front of him. "Did you see that, sir? 

"See what?" Archer asked. 

"There was an energy spike just before the port weapons bank fired." Archer pulled up the data on his own console and looked at it. 

"Where?" He asked. Reed leaned over and pointed at the graph. 

"Right there." 

"Oh, I see it. It's well within the safety limits." 

"Nevertheless, I think we should run a diagnostic before we continue." 

"Go ahead then." Archer said stretching in his chair. "It's time to quit for the day anyway. I'm getting hungry." He got up and rummaged around in the supply cabinet. "What would you like for dinner?" 

"Hmm? Oh, anything would be fine." Reed replied distractedly as he set up the diagnostic program. He was worried about the implications of the surge. He ran through the schematics in his mind, trying to come up with some reasonable explanation for it. When Archer handed him a dinner tray, he ate without really tasting the food. The computer gave a beep and brought up the results of the diagnostic. Reed scowled. 

"Well?" Archer asked. 

"Nothing. According to this, there's absolutely nothing wrong with the weapons." 

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" 

"I suppose." Reed said reluctantly. "But that surge shouldn't have occurred. If it's all right with you sir, I'd like to run a general systems check just to be sure." 

"I guess it can't hurt. Go ahead." Archer's slightly amused tone irritated Reed. He knew that Archer saw him as paranoid and overly cautious, but his instincts were telling him that this small anomaly was somehow significant. He just didn't know why. 

After the general systems check revealed everything to be fine, Reed did a manual scan of the systems he could reach through the access panels. Everything looked and scanned out just fine, but a nagging doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. 

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a little?" Archer asked. 

"Perhaps." Reed replied as he replaced an access panel. "Everything looks perfectly normal." Reed sighed. This was getting him nowhere. Except for a tiny energy spike and his own unease, there was absolutely no indication that anything was wrong. Maybe it was just Archer's presence that was putting him on edge. Short of tearing the entire shuttlepod apart, there was nothing else he could do. 

Pushing aside his worry, Reed picked up his PADD and settled down onto one of the benches. Maybe a good book would help distract him. He was just getting comfortable when Archer intruded. "What are you reading?" Reed gritted his teeth in irritation. What he wouldn't give to have Mayweather aboard instead of Archer. Mayweather had grown up on a cramped cargo ship and knew how to give at least the illusion of privacy in close quarters. 

"The Iliad." He replied shortly. 

"Oh" There was a strangely forlorn tone in Archer's voice that caused Reed to look up. 

"You don't care for Homer, sir?" he asked. 

"Well, it's just...don't you read anything that's..." Archer trailed off. 

"That's what?" Reed asked, suddenly feeling a little defensive. 

"Never mind." Archer said quickly. 

"Have you ever read the Iliad, sir?" Reed asked sharply. 

"Uh, no, not really." 

"Then how do you know it's not?" 

"Not what?" 

"Whatever you were going to say earlier. Enjoyable? Interesting, perhaps? Just because something isn't..." 

"Accessible." Archer broke in sheepishly. 

"Pardon?" 

"I was going to say accessible." Reed blinked in confusion. 

"I'm afraid I don't understand." Archer fidgeted slightly. 

"Every time I ask what you're reading, it's always something obscure; something I can't connect to." Archer sighed ruefully. "I suppose it's in the original Greek." 

"Uh, no." Reed replied, bemused by Archer's defeated demeanor. "It's an English translation. I'm afraid I still don't understand, sir. It's a classic. By it's very nature it speaks to something basically human, or it wouldn't have survived for so long." Archer regarded him skeptically. Reed stared back for a moment then muttered, "Well, my old Classical Lit instructor always said ancient Greek literature was meant to be spoken." Then he added in a louder voice. "Here, listen." He lifted the PADD and started to read out loud. 

"'Rage--Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles...'" 

Nearly an hour later, the dryness in his throat brought his voice to a halt. He hadn't meant to get so caught up in the graceful cadence of the words. He looked up at Archer, trying to hide his embarrassment at having rambled on for so long. "See? The ancient Greeks pretty much wrote about the same things people do today--tragedy and triumph, the best and worst of human behavior. Not inaccessible at all." 

"You're right." Archer said quietly. "Thank you for sharing it with me. You have a very dramatic voice." Reed felt a blush of embarrassment creep across his face. 

"Uh, thank you, sir." Archer smiled and stretched. 

"It's getting late, maybe we should turn in."

__________________________________

With a certain degree of trepidation, Reed brought the weapons to bear on the target. "Ready or not." He said under his breath as he pressed the firing button. The power read-out on the data display remained rock steady and he let out his pent up breath in a soft sigh.

"Looks good." Archer said from his station. 

"Yes, it does. Let's see if it stays that way." Three destroyed asteroids later Reed was starting to feel more relaxed. "It looks like the targeting scanners are still off by..." Reed was interrupted by a loud bang. The shuttlepod bucked like a recoiling gun. The lights flickered and then stabilized. 

"What the hell was that?" Archer asked sharply. 

"I don't know." Reed replied as he scanned the data on his console. "Did we hit something?" Archer shook his head. 

"Not according to the sensors." 

"Weapons are offline." The lights flickered again and went out. A dead silence filled the shuttlepod. Both men waited for the back up systems to come on line, but the shuttlepod remained dark and quiet. "This isn't good." Reed muttered, reaching down for the emergency flashlight. "I'm going to check the main power grid." 

Reed pulled the access panel away and recoiled from the smoke and stench of fried circuitry. He stared at the rat's nest of charred wire. A small tongue of flame flickered dimly in its depths, but even as he reached for a fire extinguisher, the automatic fire suppression system snuffed it out. At least something was still operational. 

Suddenly, there was a soft hum and a flood of light as the rest of the back-up systems finally kicked in. Reed breathed a small sigh of relief, but dread came roaring back as he took stock of the situation. The damage to the primary systems was catastrophic. He hesitated for a moment, and then called out to Archer "Sir, is the comm working?" 

"No, it's down along with helm control and weapons. We have minimal life support and sensors." 

"Those planets we passed..." Reed asked quietly "were any of them habitable?" 

"Is it that bad?" Reed heard footsteps and a sharp intake of breath as Archer came up behind him. "How the hell did that happen?" 

"I don't know." Reed said. 

"Could the weapons have overloaded the main relays?" 

"It's possible but I don't see how it could have caused this much damage. It's as if every single safety system failed simultaneously." He shook his head in frustration. "I don't even know where to begin to fix it." 

"Try for helm control." Archer said as he made his way back to the pilot's console. "I'm going to see if I can get the comm working." 

"Yes, sir."

__________________________________

"Any progress?" Archer asked.

"Some. I've restored basic helm control" Reed made a face. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a bodge job. I don't know how long it will hold." 

"Well, you had better luck than I did. The comm's still down. I think we should try for one of the planets." "Agreed, sir. The primary systems are a total loss, and we have no idea how long our backup systems will last. If we loose life support..." Reed didn't bother to finish the sentence. They both knew what would happen if they lost life support.

__________________________________

It was cold and his head hurt. Somewhere an alarm beeped insistently. Had he overslept? With an effort, Reed opened his eyes and brought the world into painful, somewhat blurry focus. A small curl of smoke drifted lazily in front of him. Panic raced through his body. He shoved himself upright, but a nauseating wave of dizziness forced him back down onto the freezing deck plating. Shuttlepod. He was in the shuttlepod.

Moving more cautiously he tried to sit up again. It wouldn't do to pass out if there was a fire. The world spun wildly for a few moments and then stabilized. Another puff of smoke materialized and he gave a sharp laugh when he realized that the 'smoke' was simply his own breath clouding in the frigid air. Something warm and wet ran down the side of his face. He swiped at it with the back of his hand, not surprised to see his shaking fingers come away red with blood. That explained the headache and dizziness. 

Reed carefully pulled himself into the chair in front of the shattered console and shut down the alarm. Silence filled the cockpit. He reached out and tried to open a comm channel. "Reed to Enterprise." Nothing. Not even static. A bead of blood dropped from his chin onto the console. It glistened brightly against the dull gray metal. Still feeling disoriented, Reed glanced around, noting the gaping rents in the port side of the shuttlepod. It must have been a hell of a hard landing. His wandering gaze came to rest on Archer's still form. Damn. Reed slid out of the chair and crawled over to Archer, not trusting his legs to hold his weight. 

"Captain?" There was no response, but he could see the steady rise and fall of Archer's chest. He reached out and pressed his fingers under Archer's jaw. A strong pulse greeted his touch. He quickly ran his hands over the other man's body, searching for damage without moving him. Definitely some broken ribs--he could feel the bones grate under even a light touch--and a deep slash on the right thigh that still bled sluggishly. 

Reed crawled over to the first aid cabinet and opened it. His heart sank. The contents of the medical kit lay strewn about the cabinet in ruins. It must not have been stowed properly. The force of the crash had smashed bottles, drug vials and delicate equipment. He picked the medical scanner out of the debris, cursing when he cut his finger on a shard of glass. The scanner looked undamaged, but Reed found himself holding his breath as he turned it on. The screen lit up in a normal soothing blue color. 

Quickly, Reed sorted through the mess in the cabinet and found an intact bottle of sterile saline solution, some surgical soap, a tube of antibiotic ointment and several pressure bandages. Gathering his prizes awkwardly to his chest, he made his way back to Archer. He checked again for airway and pulse, and then applied a bandage to Archer's leg. 

He consulted the scanner. There was no indication of major damage--no spinal injuries or skull fractures. The broken ribs he already knew about but if he was reading the scanner information right there was some minor underlying trauma to the lung as well. That worried him, but there was little he could do about it. He gently rolled Archer onto his back. He wished that Archer were awake--it would be easier to monitor his condition if he were conscious. 

"Captain?" Reed patted his hand lightly against Archer's cheek, hoping for some response. Nothing. He frowned. He remembered one of his first aid instructors saying that you should try calling the victim by name rather than rank; that people were more likely to respond to their names. It was worth a try. "Jonathan?" He said tentatively. He tried again. "Jon? Can you hear me?" That earned him an inarticulate groan. "Come on, Jon, look at me." Archer's eyelids fluttered then opened. "Sir." Reed said in relief. 

"Malcolm?" Archer looked as if he were surprised to see him. 

"Yes. I'm here." 

"Thought I heard someone calling my name." Archer said groggily. 

"Yes. I did. I'm sorry. You wouldn't wake up." 

"No. No, don't be sorry. Can't stand it when people call me sir." 

"Well then, you've gone into the wrong line of work, haven't you, sir." Reed said wryly. Archer gave him a slightly wounded look. Before Reed could stop him, Archer started to sit up only to fall back with a gasp of pain. "Careful." Reed said. "You've got some broken ribs, not to mention a concussion and a nasty cut on your leg." 

"Now you tell me." Archer said with a groan. "What happened?" He asked as Reed turned his attention to his leg. 

"I'm not exactly sure. My memory is a bit hazy on the details. Our descent was a little rough. I remember you saying that you were going to try for a clearing up ahead...then one of the stabilizers blew out...after that...I don't know. You got us down somehow." Reed gave Archer a small smile. "I won't be doubting your piloting skills again, sir." He loosened the pressure bandage cautiously and was relieved to see that the bleeding had stopped. He tried to tear the leg of Archer's uniform to get a better view of the wound, but the tough material refused to yield. "I'll be right back." Reed said giving Archer's shoulder a quick absent-minded pat. He crawled back to the first aid cabinet and found a pair of sharp surgical scissors. He slit the fabric and peeled it away from the ugly wound. 

"How bad is it?" asked Archer. 

"Phlox's osmotic eel will be sorry to have missed out on this one, but I've seen much worse." Reed said, deliberately keeping his voice light. He cleaned the wound out with the saline and antiseptic soap and then smeared on some of the ointment, hoping that it would be enough to keep infection at bay. He covered the gash with a clean bandage then picked up the scanner again. Archer seemed stable enough, but Reed was still worried about the possibility of lung damage. "I'll see if I can find you something for the pain." 

"Why don't you just bring the whole medkit over here?" Archer asked. Reed sighed and stood up unsteadily. He was tired of crawling and his knees were starting to hurt. 

"Because the kit didn't survive the crash intact." Reed said. He felt a sudden wave of guilt. "I'm sorry, sir." He added. "I should have checked to make sure it was properly stowed before we left the bay." 

"Malcolm, the maintenance crew is responsible for checking supplies on the shuttlepods, not you." 

"Yes, but..." 

"We'll add it to all the final preflight checklists when we get back so it doesn't happen again. But for now, why don't you go see if any painkillers survived." 

Reed cautiously made his way over to the cabinet, still a little unbalanced on his feet. He managed to recover a bottle of oral analgesics, three vials of a stronger injectable painkiller, two small vials of a broad-spectrum antibiotic, a tube of wound sealant, a functional hypospray, and a good assortment of bandages and gauze pads. He dumped the salvageable items into a case that didn't quite close properly because one of the latches was bent. He dragged the whole thing back to where Archer lay. 

"Find anything?" Archer asked. It was clear that pain was starting to take its toll on him. His face was covered with a fine sheen of sweat and he was breathing in short ragged gasps. 

"You're in luck, sir." Reed said as he loaded the hypospray and pressed it against Archer's neck. "That should help." A few moments later the drug started to take effect, and Archer gave a small sigh of relief. 

"Much better." He said. 

"I'm afraid there's not much else I can do for you at the moment." Reed said as he helped Archer to sit up. 

"That's okay. Let's get you checked out now." 

"I'm fine, sir." Reed said. 

"You don't look fine. It looks like you took quite a knock on the head yourself. You're still bleeding. Did you loose consciousness?" 

"Yes. I don't know for how long." 

"Sit down." Archer said firmly. Reed sat and tried not to fidget as Archer ran a scan on him. "Nothing too serious. You'll probably have a headache for a while, though." Archer cleaned out the cut on Reed's forehead then applied some sealant over it. "There you go, all done." 

"Thank you." Reed stood up, still moving carefully. "I'm going to have a quick look outside. See what our situation is." He went over to the weapons locker and took out a phase pistol. He checked the charge and holstered it at his side. Then he opened another locker and pulled out cold weather gear and a pile of blankets. He handed a jacket and the blankets to Archer. 

"No point in freezing to death." He said putting on his own jacket and some gloves. He opened the starboard hatch and ducked outside. About fifteen minutes later, he reappeared, his face red with cold. 

"No signs of any habitation. The sun is starting to go down, so I'll do what I can to get us secure for the night. We're really exposed to the wind on this hill. We'll probably have to find better shelter tomorrow." Reed rummaged around in various cabinets, coming up with a tarp, ropes, and a hatchet. 

As he gathered the equipment, Reed glanced over at Archer. "Sir, the temperature is dropping fast out there. We should stay close together tonight; share body heat. I'm going to see if I can find some branches or something to keep us off the floor." Archer could tell that Reed wasn't thrilled with the idea of sharing a bed, but it was clear he had taken his survival training to heart. Archer grinned. 

"Stay warm, stay dry, and stay hydrated. If you sorry greenhorns remember at least that much, maybe, just maybe, you won't go belly up on your first night out!" Archer barked out in a bad Texan accent. A small smile pulled at Reed's lips. 

"I see you went through cold weather survival with Sergeant Massey as well." 

"A cold subject taught by a cold bastard." Archer shot back with the unofficial class motto and they both laughed. 

"Good advice though." Reed said, picking up the hatchet "I suggest we put it to use before it gets much darker." 

"I'll take another look at the comm system. Be careful out there, Malcolm." 

"I'll do my best, sir." Reed said as he climbed out of the shuttlepod. Archer tinkered with comm as Reed came and went, bringing in armloads of odd-looking branches. They resembled pine branches but their long yellow-green needles looked more like feathers to Archer. They had a sharp, almost antiseptic smell that was strange but not unpleasant. Reed arranged the branches carefully on the shuttlepod floor, building up a springy layered surface to protect them from the frigid deck. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he pulled the pads off the shuttlepod benches and added them to the top of the pile. 

"There." Reed said finally. "That should do it, I think. It'll keep us off the floor at least." 

"Well once again you're having more success than I am." Archer said, tossing his tools down in disgust. "I don't think this can be fixed. At least the emergency beacon is working. We'll just have to hang on until Enterprise comes looking for us." 

"I'm sure we can survive that long, sir." Reed said. "I'm going to put a tarp over those holes before it gets any colder in here." He gestured at the rents in the shuttlepod's port side. "If we had hit any harder, I think she would've broken apart completely." 

"I guess we were lucky." Archer said with a grimace. 

"Let's hope our luck continues to hold." Reed said, once again going out into the darkening twilight. 

The task took longer than either man thought it would. Archer listened to the sound of Reed crawling around on the roof of the shuttlepod. Several times he heard low cursing as Reed fought the wind for control of the tarp. Archer thought about going out to lend a hand but decided that in his current condition he would be more hindrance than help. He stayed where he was, turning on a battery-powered lantern to combat the deepening shadows. Finally, Reed crawled back into the shuttlepod, pulling the starboard hatch closed behind him. 

"It's not as secure as I'd like, but it's getting too dark to see out there." Reed said pulling his gloves off and blowing on his hands to warm them. 

"I'm sure it will be fine for the night." Archer replied. "We may as well get settled in then." They pulled off their boots and climbed into the makeshift bed propping their backs against the bench behind them. Archer was surprised at how cold Reed's body felt and he pressed a little closer to the other man as he pulled the blankets up around them. Reed shifted uncomfortably but didn't pull away. "I made dinner while you were out." Archer said wryly holding up a canteen full of water and two ration bars. 

"Thank you, sir." Reed said as he accepted one of the bars. They ate and drank in silence. The nest of branches, bench pads, and blankets was surprisingly comfortable but neither man seemed inclined to sleep after the meal. 

"So" Archer asked suddenly "where were we?" 

"Sir?" 

"With The Iliad. Where were we?" 

"Oh." Reed said, rather surprised that Archer wanted to continue with the reading. "I'll see if I can find the PADD." He got up, gasping slightly as his feet touched the freezing deck plating. Quickly he located his gear bag. He grabbed it and made a rapid retreat to the warm bed. 

He settled himself down next to Archer and turned on the PADD. "Looks like it still works. Shall I continue then?" At Archer's nod, Reed took up where they had left off, but after a short while, the words began to blur. Reed's voice faltered. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, but the words remained unreadable blobs on the screen. Had the PADD been damaged? 

"Malcolm?" Reed looked up. No, the problem wasn't the PADD. 

"I'm sorry, sir. My vision's gone a bit blurry. Nothing to worry about, I'm sure." Reed hastened to add as Archer sat up in alarm. But Archer was already pulling the scanner out of their salvaged medkit. 

"Let's be sure about that, okay?" He said turning on the small machine. Reed bit down his protest and held still, letting Archer take the readings. "Well, according to this, you'll live." Archer said staring down at the scan results. "It looks like it's just a side-effect from the concussion." 

"I guess that's it for reading tonight." Reed said with disappointment. He'd actually been enjoying himself. 

"Not necessarily. I do know how to read, you know. Give it here." 

"Sir! I didn't mean to imply..." 

"Malcolm, relax." Archer took the PADD and started up where Reed had left off. Reed settled back to listen. It took Archer a little while to find the rhythm of the words, but once he did, Reed found himself rather entranced by the rise and fall of Archer's voice. Perhaps that old instructor had been right after all. 

It had grown noticeably colder in the shuttlepod by the time they set aside the PADD and turned out the light. "Good night, Malcolm." Archer said scooting down to burrow under the blankets. 

"Good night sir." Reed replied. He made no move to lie down next to Archer. The wind had picked up causing the tarp to crackle and billow madly. It put Reed on edge. The sound could mask signs of danger from outside. He touched the phase pistol to reassure himself that it was within easy reach and then set himself to keep watch over the night.

__________________________________

Something woke him from his light catnap. His hand automatically went to the phase pistol. He sat quietly in the dark, senses hyper-alert, trying to determine what had disturbed his sleep. At some point during his nap the wind had died, but the air around him was bitterly cold and he was grateful for Archer's warmth against his hip and leg. The tarp rustled slightly then was still.

The silence was suddenly shattered by a hoarse coughing growl, a predatory sound that sent a primitive shiver of fear down Reed's spine. His hand tightened automatically on the phase pistol, but he made no other move. Heavy footfalls crunched on the frozen ground outside and something brushed lightly against the tarp. Another harsh chuffing sound penetrated the night. It sounded impossibly close. The darkness in the shuttle was nearly absolute, but Reed lifted the phase pistol, relying on sound to guide his aim. He waited. There was a soft snuffling and a less urgent growl. Then the footfalls resumed, moving away. 

Reed remained still for a very long time, listening intently for any hint of sound. Eventually he lowered his weapon. He slipped out of the warm nest and slowly, blindly made his way over to the tarp. Without a sound, he crouched down onto the shockingly cold deck plating and eased the tarp aside just barely enough to see outside. The frozen world was murky, lit only by pale starlight and a dying sliver of a moon. Reed strained to catch the slightest sound or movement. Time slipped by in silence. Nothing. He crossed to the still intact starboard side window. He scanned the landscape intently for signs of danger. His feet, hands, and face were becoming numb. Finally he conceded that the cold was a far greater enemy than any living creature and retreated back to the bed.

__________________________________

Day One

When dawn started to illuminate the blue tarp, Reed rolled out of the makeshift bed and put on his boots. He cautiously surveyed the terrain before opening the hatch and going outside, phase pistol in hand. 

Dawn had not improved the world much. Raw winds swept over the bleak landscape. The brittle brown grasses that covered the hill bowed down before the onslaught with soft susurrations. Not far below, the forest spread, dark and vast. Reed shivered slightly and looked up at the pale gray sky. Snow would be an aesthetic improvement, but the air was almost painfully dry. Reed shook his head slightly. It was a stupid thing to wish for anyway. Snow would only make survival more difficult. 

Reed dropped his gaze to the ground and searched for signs of their nocturnal visitor. There were faint tracks pressed into bent and broken grass. He crouched down for a better look. The grass did not register the tracks well, so it was impossible to accurately measure the size of the foot that had made them, but the length of the stride between the tracks suggested something fairly large. Reed wished that he had managed to get a look at the creature last night. 

"Malcolm? What are you doing?" Archer's voice startled him out of his contemplation of the tracks. 

"We had a visitor last night." Reed said as he stood. 

"A visitor?" 

"Some of the local wildlife I think. I didn't get a look at it. Just heard it. Did you sleep well, sir?" 

"Surprisingly well, actually." Archer replied. "Yourself?" 

"Well enough." 

They ate a breakfast of ration bars and water and then tended each other's wounds. "Sir," Reed said, "I'd like to scout out the area. It may take Enterprise a while to pick up our signal and I have the feeling that we're going to need better shelter. We're far too exposed to the wind on this hill. And to tell the truth I don't like the fact that we had a curious predator stalking around us last night. I'd feel better if we relocated." 

"How do you know it was a predator?" 

"I don't exactly. But prey animals tend to be more cautious in their curiosity. They usually won't come right up to something unfamiliar. Whatever was out there last night wasn't timid about new things." 

"I suppose you're right." Archer said reluctantly not liking the fact that Reed would be completely on his own. "Are you sure you're up to going out alone?" 

"I'm fine, sir. A slight headache, nothing more." 

"Just be careful. And stay in touch via communicator." 

"Standard hourly contacts?" 

"Make it every half hour to be on the safe side. And be sure to mark your trail well." 

"Yes sir." 

About an hour later, Reed was ready to go. With a little work, they had managed to bring the computers up long enough to download some of the sensor data onto Reed's PADD. Reed frowned at the scans. They weren't as good as he would have hoped for. The sensors must have sustained some damage along with the other systems. However, the scans were detailed enough to indicate several nearby areas where shelter might be found. At least he had some vague idea of where to start looking, otherwise it could be a long time before they found anything even remotely suitable. 

Before leaving Reed pulled another phase pistol out of the weapons locker and handed it wordlessly to Archer. Archer took it with good grace. "Don't worry. I'll be okay here." Reed nodded and exited the shuttlepod. 

He paused at the edge of the forest and pulled out his communicator. "Reed to Archer." There was no reply. He tried again with similar results. He frowned at the piece of equipment wondering if it had been damaged in the crash. He started back up the hill, stopping halfway up to try again. "Reed to Archer." 

"Archer here. I can barely hear you." Archer's static distorted voice replied. 

"We seem to be having some problems with the range on the communicators. I don't think we're going to be able to rely on them." 

"Say again. You're breaking up." Reed sighed and trudged the rest of the way up the hill. Archer met him at the hatch. 

"I don't think we can rely on the communicators to stay in touch, sir. Either they were damaged in the crash or there's some kind of interference." Archer frowned. He was even more reluctant to let Reed go exploring now, but he knew that it was necessary. 

"Four hours. No more. If you're not back by then, I'll come after you." 

"Yes, sir." 

"You have flares?" 

"Of course, sir." Reed replied. Archer stared at Reed for a few moments before capitulating. 

"Be careful Malcolm." 

"I will." 

"Four hours. No later." 

"Understood."

__________________________________

Archer hated the fact that he was stuck here with the shuttlepod. As the slow hours passed, nervous boredom set in. He was worried about Reed. If only the communicators were working...He sighed and pushed aside his tools. His repair attempts had all failed. The comm was still dead. He was pretty sure that it was a lost cause.

He cast a glance at the chronometer. Reed had been gone for a little over three hours. With a small grimace of pain, Archer rose from his seat and went over to the hatch. He stared out at the inhospitable landscape. The pale sunlight had done nothing to dispel the pervasive chill that hung in the air. Archer sighed. There was nothing for him to do but wait.

__________________________________

A thump startled Archer awake. Ignoring the stabbing pain from his broken ribs, he snatched up the phase pistol.

"It's just me." Reed said, climbing through the now open hatch. Archer lowered his weapon, feeling a little sheepish at having been caught napping. 

"Did you find anything?" He asked. 

"Yes. There's a shallow cave, about five kilometers from here. It's sheltered and defensible, and there's a stream about half a kilometer from it." 

"Sounds good." 

"Yes. I think our luck is still holding for now. We should decide what we want to take with us." Reed said moving toward the lockers. 

They spent an hour sorting through their equipment. Archer was glad to finally have something productive to do. They organized the gear neatly into backpacks. Reed frowned at them. "We'll probably have to make a couple of trips." He said. "You probably shouldn't carry too much weight." 

"I'll manage." Archer said. 

"Sir," Reed said, "your ribs are broken, not just cracked and we'll be traveling over rough terrain. I don't think it's a good idea for you to carry a full pack." Archer huffed a sigh of annoyance. Reed was probably right. 

"Well, let's just see how it goes." 

"I could take some of the less critical things over now." Reed said, climbing to his feet. "After all..." Reed stopped suddenly, swaying slightly. He put his hand against the bulkhead to steady himself. 

"Malcolm?" Archer asked, moving quickly to Reed's side. 

"It's nothing. I'm just a little dizzy." 

"Seems like I'm not the only one who shouldn't push too hard. Come on, sit down." Archer steered him over to the bed. Reed sat down heavily, cradling his head in his hands. "I think moving day will to have to wait until tomorrow."

__________________________________

Reed woke with a small start as a hand closed gently over his mouth. He blinked in the frigid darkness. "Our visitor is back." Archer whispered, his breath hot against Reed's ear. Reed nodded his understanding and Archer's hand withdrew. Moving quickly, Reed reached out and took up his phase pistol.

Outside, something was pacing restlessly through the brittle grass. The two men sat in silence. The sudden growl made them both flinch. The tarp rattled as the creature outside began to paw at it. Reed tensed when he heard the tough material tear, but then the pawing stopped abruptly. The creature gave a frustrated snort. Something heavy banged against the shuttlepod. "Shit." Archer muttered under his breath. Another violent blow hammered at the side of the craft. Silence followed. 

Long minutes passed, measured by thudding heartbeats. "I think it's go-..." Reed broke off as the thing slammed into the shuttlepod again, claws screeching down the hull, "not gone." He amended in a low whisper. The creature snorted in short angry huffs and started pawing at the tarp again. 

"Malcolm?" Archer asked suddenly, his voice soft. "Do we have any stun grenades on board?" Reed grinned despite their situation. It was a good idea. 

"I believe so." He whispered back. Reed carefully made his way over to the weapons locker. He explored the contents by feel. His fingers traced over the grenades and he pulled two of the small devices out of the locker. He crept over to the intact starboard hatch. Archer was waiting for him, his hand on the release mechanism. "Ready sir." Reed said. Archer lifted the lever and pushed the hatch up. Reed armed the grenade and tossed it out, angling his throw so that it landed beyond the bow of the shuttlepod. Archer slammed the hatch shut. Five seconds later they saw the flash of light and heard the loud pop as the grenade went off. 

The creature gave a startled squall and they could hear it moving away through the grass. "Let's really give it something to think about." Reed said. They crossed over to the port side. Archer pulled the tarp aside just enough for Reed to throw the second grenade out after the retreating animal. The second flash of light and sound seemed even more intense. Reed crouched down nearly flat on the deck and peered outside. A large dark shadow was bounding away across the hill. It quickly disappeared from his sight. He let his breath out in a sigh of relief and sat up, propping his back against the bulkhead. 

"It's gone." He said. 

"Did you get a good look at it?" Archer asked. 

"No. But it was big. I'm glad it didn't get in here. The stun grenades were a good idea." 

"I'm just glad it worked." Archer replied. 

"Me too." Reed stood. By unspoken agreement they climbed back into the bed, pulling the blankets close around their chilled bodies. They sat in silence waiting for the sun to rise, neither one of them wanting to go back to sleep.

__________________________________

Day Two

"Bloody hell." Reed said softly as he and Archer stared at the scratches and dents the creature had left across the weakened metal skin of the shuttlepod. 

"I once saw a cabin that had been broken into by a grizzly bear." Archer commented, peering intently at the claw marks. "The metal door had been torn clean off. The bear left claw marks similar to this. Whatever this thing is, it's strong." 

"Indeed." Reed ran his fingers lightly down the scratches. "Now I'm really glad it didn't get in last night." 

"Come on. We should probably have something to eat before heading out."

__________________________________

Archer watched in annoyance as Reed started to pull gear out of one of the packs. "What are you doing?"

"Reducing the load a bit. I can come back for these things tomorrow. This isn't critical equipment." 

"Malcolm. Just leave it. I'll manage." 

"Sir..." Reed started to protest. 

"Why don't you let me be the judge of what I can and cannot do?" Archer said crossly. Reed backed away from the pack. 

"Of course sir." He said, his face carefully blank. He turned away to check the straps of his own pack. Archer knelt down and replaced the items that Reed had removed. When he was done, he hefted the pack experimentally, trying to ignore the violent stab of pain that shot across his chest. He was glad that he had taken a strong dose of the painkiller earlier. After seating the pack carefully against his back, he made some adjustments to the straps so that he was bearing a little more of the weight on his uninjured side. His ribs throbbed in protest, but Archer stubbornly ignored the pain. 

He climbed out of the shuttlepod gingerly and joined Reed. "The yellow blazes mark the route I took going out yesterday." Reed said as he secured the shuttlepod hatch. "The red mark the more direct path I took back." 

"Red it is then." Archer said, nodding his head toward the first marker. Reed hung back slightly letting Archer take the lead and set the pace. 

Before long they entered the forest. Archer studied the new environment with interest, his curiosity overcoming his pain. The peculiar pine-like trees seemed to be the predominant plant species, although there were a variety of other smaller trees and bushes. 

A harsh croaking sound drew Archer's attention upward and he saw a winged black creature that looked a bit like a cross between a bird and a lizard. It stared back at him with luminous orange eyes. It croaked again and raised the webbed crest on its head before flying away. It quickly disappeared from sight. 

"I saw a lot of those things yesterday." Reed said. "They seem pretty harmless. Noisy though." Reed was right, Archer realized. He could hear several of the creatures calling out from the treetops. There were other sounds as well, small trills and squeaks, and an occasional chirring sound that came from low in the underbrush. 

Archer's interest in his surroundings could hold off the pain only so long and after about a kilometer and a half of walking, he started having trouble catching his breath properly. The weight of the pack sent constant shivers of pain through his body and his injured leg had begun to throb unpleasantly. He continued to walk, though, stubborn pride keeping him on his feet. 

"Can we stop for a moment, sir?" Reed said. "I've somehow managed to get a rock in my boot." Archer stopped, grateful for the brief respite. Reed took off his pack and sat down next to it before pulling off his boot and turning it upside down. He peered suspiciously into the boot before putting it back on. Archer frowned when the other man made no move to get up. "Do you mind if we stay here for a bit, sir? I'm afraid my foot is still rather sore." Archer gave Reed a hard look. 

"Really?" He said with a skeptical snort. 

"Yes, sir." Reed said evenly. "I'm sure it will feel fine in a little while." Archer shook his head, but decided to play along. He knew damn well that a stone bruise wouldn't slow Reed down. After all, this was the man who insisted that he was 'fine' after being shot and who barely flinched after being impaled through the leg by an alien mine. 

"You just tell me when you're feeling better, Lieutenant." Archer said, shedding his pack and easing himself down onto the cold ground. 

"I'll do that, sir." 

Archer hated to admit it, but he felt much better after the half-hour rest. Reed insisted that Archer take some more of the painkiller before resuming their hike. 

"I don't know, Malcolm." Archer said. "Maybe you ought to save a bit of that for yourself. I'm sure your foot must still be bothering you." Reed shrugged. He knew the ploy had been transparent and clumsy, but it had produced the desired results. 

"I'm sure I'll manage somehow, sir." He said dryly.

__________________________________

Archer regretted his resolve to carry a full pack. The strain of the hike was becoming close to unbearable, even with the frequent rests that Reed kept insisting they take. With each step, the pack became heavier and heavier and his injuries grew more and more painful. It felt like someone was sticking red-hot knives into his chest, and his injured leg pulsated with a dull bone-deep ache.

His foot caught on a root and he stumbled. He barely managed to catch himself against a tree, and the sudden jolt sent a wave of agony through him. A small strangled sound of pain escaped from his throat and his vision blurred. He clutched desperately at the rough bark. "Shit." He mumbled. Every gasping breath he took was sheer torture. 

Reed silently helped him to remove the pack and sit down against the feathery-needled tree. Archer closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the rough trunk. "Here." Reed said, handing him a canteen. Archer sipped at the water and tried to even out his breathing. 

"Well?" he said weakly. 

"Well what?" Reed asked with a small frown. 

"Aren't you going to say I told you so?" 

"I wasn't planning on it." Reed said. "Would you like me to?" 

"No. That's okay." 

"The cave's about two kilometers from here. Do you think you can make it without the pack?" 

"We can't just leave it here. Something might get into it." Archer protested. 

"We'll cache it in a tree. That will probably keep it out of the reach of most things." 

"I don't know..." Archer said reluctantly. 

"I'll come back for it as soon as I can. But I honestly don't think it's a good idea for you to keep carrying it." 

"Fine." Archer said, too tired to argue. "Just let me rest for a bit before we head out again."

__________________________________

"Almost there, sir." Reed said. "See--there's the stream. Only about half a kilometer to go." Archer suppressed a groan. Half a kilometer. It might as well be a hundred.

"We should rest for a bit before we cross it." Reed said. 

"Why?" Archer asked sarcastically. "Is your foot bothering you again?" Reed gave him a sidelong glance. 

"As a matter of fact, sir, it is. The stream isn't very deep here, but the footing is slippery. I wouldn't care to take a fall in it. In this kind of weather, hypothermia would be a real threat." Archer sighed. He was tired and hurting, but that didn't give him the right to take his frustration out on Reed. After all, what Reed was saying made perfect sense. 

"Sorry." He said quietly. 

"Quite all right, sir." Reed said as he divested himself of his pack.

__________________________________

"Well, here we are." Reed said as they stepped into the small shallow cave. The entrance was fairly narrow and the cave only went back about six meters. "It's a little cramped, but I think it will work out well. See the way that rock slopes up there? I think if we build a fire here, most of the smoke will be directed outside. If not I might be able to blast a small smoke hole out with a micro charge."

"Home sweet home." Archer said, only half listening to what Reed was saying. He eased himself down on the cave floor with a small grunt of pain. Despite the cold he was sweating profusely. He let out a sigh and closed his eyes. 

A hand touched his shoulder and he opened his eyes with a small gasp. "I didn't mean to startle you." Reed said apologetically, handing Archer some blankets. "If you have no objections, I'm going to test my theory about the fire before going after the other pack." 

"Go ahead." Archer said. He wanted to get up and help, but his body had hit its limits and he didn't dare try to push himself any harder.

__________________________________

It didn't take Reed long to gather a sufficient amount of dead dry wood from the forest. He built a basic fire ring out of rock and arranged the logs, kindling and tinder within it. "Blast it." He muttered.

"What's wrong?" Archer asked. 

"I think the lighter's in the other pack. So unless we want to build a fire drill..." Reed let his sentence trail off. 

"Here. Let me show you a little trick I picked up." Archer limped over to the fire ring. He drew his phase pistol and fired a sustained beam into the pile of wood until the tinder started to smolder and burn. "There." He smiled broadly, happy to have contributed something to the endeavor. 

"Sergeant Massey would be impressed." Reed said. 

"Oh, I doubt it." Archer said. "I don't think anything could impress that man." 

"You might be right." Reed smiled and glanced up at the ceiling. The slope of the rock was directing the smoke outside. "But all the same, I think we've done fairly well so far."

__________________________________

By the time Reed returned with the abandoned pack, Archer was feeling much better. He was even able to help with some of the lighter chores such as arranging the branches for a new bed and heating up water for tea. Reed worked determinedly, cutting up firewood and stacking it neatly just outside the cave mouth.

"We should get some rest." Archer said as the last remnants of twilight began to fade. "It's been a very long day." 

"Go ahead, sir." Reed said. "I'll keep watch. I don't want to take any chances. If that creature followed us..." 

"The fire should keep any animals away." Archer said confidently. 

"I'm not so sure about that. I'd really prefer to..." 

"Malcolm, you're exhausted. Now come over here and get some rest. That's an order, Lieutenant." Reed obeyed with ill- concealed anger. He placed the phase pistol where he could grab it quickly then lay down. 

It wasn't a restful night for Reed. Despite his fatigue, every small sound pulled him abruptly from his uneasy sleep. Even with the well-fed fire, blankets, and body heat, the night was still achingly cold. It wasn't until false dawn was lighting the sky that he finally drifted off into deep sleep.

__________________________________

Day Three

Reed rubbed his face against his pillow and burrowed deeper under the warm covers. The pillow moved slightly and something tightened gently around his shoulders. Even in his drowsy state Reed knew that something wasn't right. Cautiously he opened his eyes. He went utterly still as he assessed the situation. Sometime during the night, Archer had rolled over onto his back and Reed was now nestled against Archer's side, one arm flung across his superior's chest, his head resting on the man's shoulder. His left leg was draped quite comfortably over Archer's thigh. To make matters worse, Archer's arms were wrapped firmly around his shoulders, holding him in place. Mortified, he started to disentangle himself from the embrace. Archer murmured something in his sleep and Reed froze. Slowly, as if defusing a mine, Reed moved his leg off of the sleeping man. 

The next part was going to be a bit trickier. He pondered how to free himself from Archer's grasp. He ran through several options in his head discarding most of them out of hand. He finally decided that it might be best to do it quickly. He would wake Archer in the process, but he would probably be able to escape his awkward situation before the other man was fully awake and aware. He was about to put his plan into action when it was rendered quite unnecessary. 

"Uh, Malcolm?" Archer said drowsily. 

"Yes, sir?" Reed replied trying to sound as normal as possible. At least he had managed to move his leg. 

"Could you move, please? I need to get up." 

"Yes, sir. But I need you to let go first." Reed said, repressing a sudden hysterical urge to laugh. 

"What? Oh, sorry." Archer's arms dropped away from Reed's shoulders. Reed rolled away and buried his face in his arms. He stayed there until Archer rose and started to limp out of the cave. Duty overcame embarrassment. 

"Sir, do you have a phase pistol?" he asked. 

"Yes, Malcolm." Archer said with exasperation. "I'll be careful. I promise. Now let me go take a piss in peace." With a sigh Reed sat up and rubbed his face. As far as he was concerned, Enterprise couldn't get here fast enough.

__________________________________

"Don't you think we have enough firewood for now?" Archer asked.

"This isn't for firewood, sir." Reed replied distractedly as he picked through the lengths of wood he had spent most of the day cutting and collecting. He selected a nice straight piece that was about three meters long. With careful controlled strokes of the hatchet, he started to sculpt one end into a point. 

"Um, that's a little thick for a spear, isn't it?" 

"It's not going to be a spear. It's going to be part of a defensive perimeter." 

"You're building a stockade? Malcolm, we're only going to be stuck here for a few days. Do you really think that's necessary?" 

"Actually, sir, I do." Reed said tightly. 

"You're not mad about last night, are you? We were both exhausted. You needed to rest as much as I did. The fire should keep any animals away." 

"Are you positive about that, sir?" Reed challenged. 

"Well..." Archer wanted to say yes, but knew he'd be lying. 

"I'm not positive either." Reed said. "Personally, I'd like something a little more solid than a pile of burning sticks between us and whatever left those scratches on the shuttlepod." 

"And you're positive that this...defensive perimeter will work?" 

"No. For all I know the local predators are all champion high jumpers. But it adds a fourth line of defense." 

"A fourth?" 

"Perimeter, fire, phase pistols, bare hands." Reed replied succinctly. 

"Do you always think that way?" Archer asked still exasperated but also curious. 

"Think what way?" 

"As if we were under threat of constant attack." Reed gave him a puzzled look. 

"It's my job to keep us safe." He said as if that explained everything. Archer sighed. He could tell he wouldn't be able to dissuade Reed from this project unless he ordered him to abandon it. And as much as he hated to admit it, Reed did have a good point. They had no idea what dangers this planet held. Besides it would help pass the time. 

"What can I do to help?" Archer asked.

__________________________________

Day Six

"Malcolm, come sit down and rest for a bit. I've made us something to eat." 

"I'd like to finish this first, sir." 

"You've been working for hours." Archer said, his irritation spilling over into his voice. Over the past three days, he had become increasingly annoyed by Reed's almost fanatical obsession with the stockade. "You need to eat." 

"Is that an order, sir?" Reed asked stiffly. 

"No, damn it! And stop doing that!" 

"Doing what?" Reed regarded Archer warily. 

"Bludgeoning me with my rank! Using it like some kind of weapon." Reed's guarded expression gave way to open-mouthed astonishment. Archer would have laughed if he weren't so aggravated. 

"I...I don't understand." Reed said hesitantly. "I'm not..." 

Archer struggled to regain control over his temper. "Not everything that comes out of my mouth is an order." He said in a gentler tone. "I just want you to sit down with me for a while and have something to eat." 

"I'm sorry." Reed said still looking uncertain. He put down the hatchet and came over to the fire, seating himself at a careful distance from Archer. He gave a short nod of thanks when Archer handed him a heated ration pack. Reed picked at it absently for a few minutes, eating little. Archer suppressed another wave of irritation. He didn't want to admit it but he was feeling bored and lonely. He couldn't do much work because of his injuries and Reed's British reserve was starting to wear on him. Why did the man always have to make everything so damned difficult? He just wanted someone to talk to. The only time Reed ever seemed to unwind was when they were reading. 

"Is my cooking that bad?" Archer said lightly, trying to break through the other man's barrier of silence. Reed looked up as if startled. 

"It's fine, sir." He said quietly. 

"Look, Malcolm," Archer said wearily "why don't we just drop the ranks. We're the only two people on this planet. There's no need to keep up the pretense of a command structure. Right now it hardly matters what our ranks are." 

"But..."Reed started to protest. 

"Damn it, Malcolm. Do I have to make it an order?" Reed shook his head, turning his attention back to his food. Several awkward minutes passed before Reed broke the silence. 

"I'm sorry, Captain." he said unhappily "I wasn't trying to be rude..." 

"No ranks." Archer said. "Call me Jon." Reed tried again. 

"Jon, then." He said uncomfortably. "I just..." he closed his eyes briefly as if he were in pain. "I need to keep us safe. After all, it's my fault we're stuck here in the first place." 

"What?" 

"I must have overlooked something." Reed said despondently. "It was my call. I should have postponed further testing until..." 

"You can't be serious!" Archer interrupted. "That spike was barely a blip. The systems all checked out fine. There was absolutely no reason to stop." 

"I should have..." Reed's voice trailed off. 

"Should have what? Tell me, what else could you have done? Short of pulling the shuttlepod apart and inspecting every single wire and relay, what could you have done?" 

"I don't know." Reed said with a tense shrug. 

"When we get back to the ship we'll have a full forensic work up done on the shuttlepod. We'll find out what happened, but for now let's not worry about it. Misplaced guilt isn't going to help us." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Call me Jon," Archer said.

__________________________________

Day Nine

Once the stockade was completed, Reed seemed to relax a bit and the two men slowly fell into a daily routine. The heavier tasks of carrying water and wood still fell to Reed who wouldn't let Archer even attempt them. "Your ribs are still healing." He said when Archer insisted on helping him stack the wood. 

"I'm okay, Malcolm." 

"Really?" Reed challenged. "Hold this for a moment." He thrust a heavy log into Archer's hands. Archer gasped in pain and would have dropped it if Reed hadn't taken it back immediately. 

"Point taken." Archer conceded grumpily. 

"Good." Reed said as he continued to arrange the firewood in a neat stack. 

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Archer accused. 

"What?" 

"You're enjoying this." Archer repeated, waving his hand in the air to indicate the cave and forest around it. 

"Well, aside from the crash landing and us being injured, yes I am. I've always enjoyed camping. Well...maybe not always." Reed amended with a small laugh "There was the time my friend Stephen and I got stuck in a bog." 

"A bog? How did you manage that?" Archer asked, more than a little surprised by Reed's sudden openness. 

"Well, it all started out as an Eagle scout exercise in orienteering. We were taken in pairs to a starting point and given a compass and a topographical map that we had to use to get to a series predetermined locations. But it turned out that the maps were inaccurate. Marshes, bogs, waterways and lakes are all supposed to be marked in blue, but this map had the bog marked in a light green which is used to indicate light vegetation. It should have been easy going. My friend Stephen and I thought that the marshy ground was simply due to the heavy rains that had fallen earlier in the week. We were young and stupid so we pushed on. By the time we realized what had happened we were pretty far in. We decided to backtrack, but then Stephen tripped and dropped the compass in the water. We managed to find it again, but by then it was getting too dark to safely make our way out. We found a patch of dry ground and waited for sunrise. It was absolutely miserable. I'd never seen so many mosquitoes in one place before." Reed smiled and shook his head. "That trip really was quite awful. I never did get my badge in orienteering. What about you? What's the worst camping trip you've ever taken?" Archer grinned. 

"The worst? Hmmm. Let me think..." They spent much of the afternoon trading camping stories, and for the first time Archer found himself thinking that maybe the wait for Enterprise wouldn't be so bad after all.

__________________________________

Day Ten

"What's this?" Archer asked gesturing to the small, gutted carcass that Reed set down near the fire. 

"Supper. I think." Reed replied. He opened up their medkit and pulled out the scanner. "Hmmm. Looks safe enough, so, yes. Supper." 

"Oh." Archer said. He knew that they would eventually have to start supplementing their rations, but he was a little taken aback by the fact that Reed felt it necessary to do so already. "Malcolm, they'll find us." 

"Yes." Reed agreed. "I know they will. But remember your survival training. If there's any question it's better to start sooner than later." Reed's words were the closest either man had come to acknowledging out loud that Enterprise should have found them by now. 

"You're right." Archer said unenthusiastically. Reed gave him a quick sidelong glance. 

"I'm not trying to be pessimistic." He said quietly. "But ignoring the reality of our situation isn't going to help." 

"I know." Archer replied with a sigh. With an effort he tried to lighten the mood. "It's really too bad Chef isn't down here with us. I'm sure he'd know exactly how to serve...uh, what do you suppose it is? An alien warthog?" It was a poor attempt at a joke but they both smiled anyway.

__________________________________

Day Fourteen

"Do you have anything else to read?" Archer asked hopefully. They had finished The Iliad days ago and he rather missed their reading sessions. Reed gave him a startled yet pleased look. 

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." He put aside the phase pistol he had been inspecting and retrieved the PADD from his pack. "Hmm." He said, scrolling down the content list. "How about Beowulf? It makes an interesting contrast to the Iliad." 

"All warrior literature on that PADD?" Archer asked with some amusement. 

"Actually, no. Mostly classical poetic literature. Curious. Seems to be something of a lost art these days. If I had known we'd be stuck here I would have brought more variety." 

"So what else do you have?" 

"The Canterbury Tales, The Waste Land, and The Divine Comedy." 

"Oh. Anything else?" 

"The Odyssey if you're up for more Homer." Archer grimaced slightly. Reed smiled in response. "Not accessible enough for you?" 

"Well, I enjoyed the Iliad, but I was hoping for something a little less...mmm..." 

"Tedious? Challenging?" Reed teased. 

"Long." Archer said. 

Reed gave Archer a contemplative look. "Well..." he said reluctantly "I might have something, but you have to promise not to laugh." 

"Ah ha!" Archer said triumphantly. "So you do have something else. You've been holding out on me. What is it? Some kind of sordid romance novel?" 

"No!" Reed said indignantly. "Of course not!" 

"Okay, okay. What is it?" 

"Promise." Reed was adamant. 

"I promise not to laugh." Archer said solemnly. Reed gave him a hard look as if trying to judge whether he was telling the truth. "Scout's honor." Archer added. Finally satisfied, Reed went over to his gear bag and pulled out a battered leather-bound book. He held it out to Archer. 

"It was my favorite book as a child." He explained as Archer took it from his hand. Archer looked at the cover. There were two wolves embossed in gold on the front. He turned the book over in his hands and read the title imprinted on the spine. He started to grin. Reed's face went stony in response. 

"No." Archer said quickly, thwarting Reed's attempt to take the book back. "I'm not laughing at you. It's just that I'm relieved. I was worried you were going to pull out Shakespeare's Complete Works or something." 

"Hardly." Reed said still not completely mollified. 

"Seriously, Malcolm, this is wonderful. I remember reading this when I was young too." 

Reed sat down next to Archer. "My great uncle gave it to me when I was seven." He explained softly. "My father never much cared for it. He thought it was too fanciful. I haven't read it in ages. I'm not even sure why I tossed in my bag this time around." 

"Well, I'm glad you did. This is just what we need to break up the epic poems." 

"I'm afraid it still counts as a classic." Reed said. 

"I suppose, but this is an accessible one. May I?" 

"Of course." Archer opened the book and started to read out loud. 

"'It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in their tips...'"

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Archer stirred slightly. Without conscious thought he reached out searching for Reed's warm presence. His hand encountered only an unoccupied tangle of blankets. It was enough to bring him out of his sleepy haze. He stared at the empty space for a few seconds before rolling over onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows. Reed was sitting by the fire, his attention focused on the PADD.

"Malcolm, what are you doing?" Reed looked up guiltily at the sound of Archer's voice. 

"I'm sorry." He said. "I didn't mean to wake you." 

"You didn't. Are you okay?" 

"Fine." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

"Vision bothering you again?" 

"A little." Reed admitted. "It comes and goes." He gestured at the PADD. "I've been working on a way to boost the signal on the emergency beacon. I think I've come up with an idea, but I'll need to disassemble the communicators for parts." 

"Well, it's not like they're doing us much good right now anyway." Archer said as he sat up. Reed said nothing. "They'll find us Malcolm." Reed gave him a thin tired smile. 

"Of course they will. I just thought I'd give them a bit of a hand."

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Day Fifteen

The next morning, Reed geared up for the hike back to the shuttlepod. "I don't know how long it will take me to make the modifications." He said. "If it gets too late, I'll stay overnight in the shuttlepod. Is there anything you want me to bring back?" 

"No. I can't think of anything. Be careful, Malcolm." 

"You too, Jon." Reed replied as he opened the stockade gate. Archer watched him go with a strange sense of foreboding. Reed's pace was brisk and it wasn't long before the dark forest swallowed him, obscuring him from Archer's view. Archer was about to turn away, when a large black bird-lizard burst from the underbrush, rising into the sky with a harsh croaking cry. It wasn't a crow, but an ancient counting rhyme immediately popped into Archer's thoughts. One for sorrow, two for joy...He had never considered himself a superstitious man but he couldn't stop an irrational shiver of dread from running down his spine.

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Day Sixteen

Archer did his best to stay occupied. He stacked wood until he had to quit in deference to his still healing ribs. He picked up the PADD and tried to read Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. But he found himself reading the same passage over and over without really comprehending it. He wondered if it was because of the archaic language or his own distraction. In desperation, he scratched a tic tac toe game into the dirt of the cave floor with a stick and played against himself, every game ending in a draw. It was no good. His attention was always drawn back to forest. Time and again he peered out the gate of the stockade, his eyes searching for any hint of movement. 

A sound like distant thunder caught his attention. The muted boom was followed by a muffled British curse. A few seconds later Archer could make out Reed's form, an indistinct shadow among the trees. Something about it didn't seem quite right. Was he injured? 

"Malcolm?" He called out in alarm as he opened the gate. 

"Were you expecting someone else?" Reed replied sounding tired and more than a little irritated. 

"Are you okay?" 

"Fine. Absolutely brilliant." Reed emerged from the trees, something large and bulky tucked awkwardly under one arm. 

"What in the world are you carrying?" 

"A tank." Came the disgruntled reply. 

"A tank?" 

"Yes, Jon. A tank. A forty litre tank to be precise." Reed brushed past Archer and dropped the article in question next to the fire. It fell with a hollow boom. 

"May I ask why you brought it back with you?" Archer asked carefully as he closed the gate. It couldn't have been an easy object to lug through the forest. 

"Because we stink." Reed said bluntly. "We are both in desperate need of a real bath and this way we can heat up enough water to get at least halfway clean." Reed glared at the tank for a few seconds before sitting down on the log bench by the fire. 

"You dragged that all the way back here because you wanted a bath?" 

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Reed said sounding so remorseful that Archer had to hide his smile behind a feigned cough. 

"I'll make us some tea." Archer said after he had regained control of himself. 

"Tea sounds lovely." Reed sighed and Archer found himself studying the other man closely. He looked exhausted. 

"Malcolm, are you sure you're okay?" 

"Fine. Just a little bruised." Reed sent another glare at the tank before rubbing a hand over his eyes. "And tired. I didn't sleep very well. It was a lot colder in the shuttle. But the modifications are done. If they're out there, they'll find us."

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Day Seventeen

"Oh, that feels good." Reed groaned as the hot water sluiced down his body, rinsing away the last of the soap and dirt. Archer grinned at Reed's obvious enjoyment of being clean again. He had to admit that he too was feeling much better. He hadn't really noticed how filthy they had become until Reed had brought it up. 

"Just remember to leave enough to wash the rest of your clothes." He warned, dropping another fire-heated rock into the tank. It sank to the bottom with a hiss and a curl of steam. "Unless, of course, you want to make another trip to the stream." 

"Spoilsport." Reed grumbled as he dipped out another bucketful of water. He poured it over his head then set the bucket down and wiped the water out of his eyes. "I suppose that will have to do then." He said regretfully. 

"Here." Archer held out a blanket to Reed. "You'd better cover up before you freeze." There had been a heated debate about whether or not to wash the blankets. Reed had wanted everything cleaned but Archer had prudently argued that they would be in trouble if the blankets were not dry by nightfall; besides they needed something to wrap up in while their clothing dried by the fireside. Reed accepted the blanket and wrapped it around himself before dumping the rest of his dirty clothes into the tank. 

"I'll just let those soak for a bit." He said as he settled down by the small fire they had built in their stockade- enclosed yard. "I feel almost civilized again, even if I still look scruffy." He ran a hand over his chin. The hair there was too long to be called stubble and he was sure it looked horribly unprofessional. Archer grinned from behind his own scraggly beard. 

"I don't think facial hair suits either one of us, but it beats dealing with windburn and frostbite. We can always shave when we get back to the ship." 

"True." Reed said as he got up with a sigh. "I suppose I'd best finish up. If I stay here any longer, I'll fall asleep." 

"I'll give you a hand." They scrubbed the rest of the clothes in companionable silence. Afterward, they sat by the fire, tired but content. They were clean, their clothes were clean and the rest of their worries could wait until the next morning.

__________________________________

The weeks passed by slowly. Archer's ribs eventually stopped aching, although odd bumps had developed along his ribcage where the bones had knit together imperfectly. With both of them able to work, the daily chores of survival took on a more leisurely pace. Archer found that he was too impatient to make a good hunter, so he left that task up to Reed who seemed to enjoy the challenge of it. Instead, Archer took over the work of hauling water. He liked the stream and spent some time mapping out likely fishing holes. He built a pole and set out to catch something edible. Despite his many attempts, the only creature he ever managed to hook was a large grotesque eel-like thing that tried to bite his finger off when he hauled it in and that the medical scanner indicated as being highly toxic. After that, he gave up on fishing.

He and Reed amused themselves by reading aloud, or telling each other stories about their past postings in Starfleet, or debating the merits of various literary forms. They rarely spoke of Enterprise or the people aboard her.

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Day Forty-Three

Reed yawned and gently disentangled himself from Archer's embrace. As always, their bodies had sought each other out during the night, but after so many mornings of waking up pressed close to the other man Reed felt no embarrassment. Archer's presence had become normal and comforting. 

Reed rose and put some water over the fire. He wished that they still had some tea left. Plain hot water just wasn't the same. But the tea was long gone as were the ration packs. Due to careful rationing, and ongoing supplementation of their food supplies through hunting, they still had quite a few of the dry unappetizing emergency ration bars left, but their luxuries had been used up weeks ago. 

Reed wondered how long they would be able to survive once the ration bars ran out. Most of the plants on this planet were poisonous to humans. They would quickly run into issues of vitamin deficiencies and malnutrition on a diet composed only of alien protein. 

Reed rubbed his hands across his face. He was no longer sure they would be found, but he refused to give voice to his growing doubts. With a sigh, he poured some hot water into a mug. He sipped at it and tried to imagine that it was something more interesting--tea or coffee or even that horribly sweet hot cocoa that Hoshi liked so much. 

A harsh cough interrupted his thoughts. He poured a second mug of hot water and took it over to Archer. "Good morning." He said passing the mug to Archer who was still coughing slightly. 

Archer sat up and sipped at the water gratefully, trying to ease the horrible tickle in the back of his throat. "Good morning." He croaked back, squinting a little in the light. Reed frowned. 

"You sound awful." 

"I feel awful." Archer replied. He rubbed his free hand over his forehead. "My lungs feel like they're full of lead. And I think I have a fever." 

"That doesn't sound good." Reed said. He put his mug down and went to retrieve the medkit. 

"Well, it certainly doesn't feel good either." Reed knelt next to Archer with the medical scanner in hand. 

"According to this you have a lower respiratory infection--something similar to pneumonia." 

"Great." Archer muttered, flopping back onto the blankets. He slung his arm over his eyes to blot out the light. 

"I'm afraid we don't have anything that can help directly with the fever." Reed said apologetically. "You'll just have to hold out until the antibiotics knock out the underlying infection." 

"I'm sure I'll manage." Archer mumbled as Reed injected him with the antibiotic. "I'm going back to sleep." 

"Are you sure you don't want something to eat, first?" Reed asked in concern. You need to keep your strength up." 

"I'm not hungry." 

"But..." 

"Malcolm, would you stop fussing?" Archer said in exasperation. "I'll be fine. Go out and cut some more wood or something. I want to sleep."

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Day Forty-Four

"Well, that's it for Inferno." Reed said, looking up from the PADD. "Would you like to continue with Purgatorio or would you prefer to try to get some sleep now?" 

"Purgatory sounds about right at the moment." Archer said grumpily. His voice was raspy and raw from all the coughing. "I hate being sick. My ribs finally healed up and now I get stuck with this crud." 

"I know." Reed said sympathetically. "It doesn't seem terribly fair does it?" Archer sighed. 

"I'm sorry. I'm old enough to know that the universe is anything but fair. I didn't mean to sound childish." 

"You're not being childish. You're simply frustrated. I'd feel the same way in your place--although I have to say I'm glad I'm not." Archer gave a small snort of laughter. 

"Thanks. That makes me feel so much better." 

"Glad to help." Reed said with a small smile. "On to purgatory then. Look at it this way, Jon--at least it's not hell, and paradise follows." He scrolled down a bit on the PADD and started to read.

__________________________________

_"...So I was startled, as from my face_  
Sleep fled, and I became pale,  
As a man does when fear freezes him.  
At my side..."

A soft snore caused Reed to look up. He hadn't been reading long, but Archer was sound asleep. Almost without meaning to, Reed reached out and stroked his hand across Archer's hot forehead. He kept his touch deliberately light, not wanting to wake his friend. Friend. Reed contemplated the word as he gazed at Archer. Friendship was the proper description of their relationship now. Archer had become far more than his superior officer in the past weeks. Reed was startled by the revelation, but it made him feel strangely content at the same time. 

"At my side there was only my comforter. And the sun had been up more than two hours already, And my face was turned toward the shore." 

Reed finished the stanza in a soft voice before turning off the PADD and curling up next to Archer

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Day Forty-Six

"Your eyes." Archer said. "I like your eyes. They're pretty. Gray, like the sea." 

"Are they indeed?" Reed said, dipping a cloth into the bucket of cold water. Archer had been rambling for some time now. His fever had spiked dramatically during the night and had yet to abate. Reed was starting to worry that the antibiotics weren't working. 

"Not jus' your eyes. All of you. You're very attractive." 

"And you, my friend, are very delirious." Reed said. He wrung out the cloth and gently pressed it against Archer's hot forehead. 

"No. 'S true. All true." Reed smiled at the earnestness in Archer's voice. 

"Well, thank you then. You're quite handsome yourself when you're not burning up with fever." He said, wiping the cool cloth down the side of Archer's face and neck. "Try to go back to sleep, Jonathan. You need to rest." 

"Can't sleep." Archer said fretfully. "Too hot. Should check the envira-...environmen'l controls." 

"I know." Reed said. "I'll have someone look into it as soon as possible." He dipped the cloth back into the bucket. "In the meantime, would you like more to eat?" Reed asked. After some experimentation he had discovered that if he broke the ration bars up into hot water, they became an easy to swallow oatmeal-like gruel. 

"No. That stuff is..." Archer waved a hand loosely in the air. "It needs sugar...sugar and cinnamon. You're not a very good cook. Chef makes better oatmeal." 

"That's why he's the chef and I'm the armory officer." Reed said with a faint smile. "Besides, I'm afraid we're all out of sugar and cinnamon. We'll just have to put a requisition in for some, okay?" 

"Oh...okay." Archer fell silent for a moment. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He said suddenly. 

"You didn't." Reed replied, running the cloth over the other side of Archer's face. "Chef does make much better oatmeal." 

"Wasn't nice to say." Archer said. "I'm sorry." 

"It's all right. Go to sleep." 

"It's snowing. Shouldn't be snow on a starship." 

"What?" 

"Snowing." Archer mumbled, his eyes sliding shut. Reed glanced over his shoulder. Outside, small dry flakes of snow were filtering down through the trees.

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Day Forty-Eight

Reed woke to find that Archer's fever had broken sometime during the night. He gave a shuddering sigh of relief. It was difficult for him to admit, but Archer's illness had frightened him badly. It drove home just how vulnerable they were on this cold world, far from proper medical care. They were on their own with limited skills and dwindling supplies. And there was still no sign of Enterprise.

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Day Forty-Nine

Reed stood at the cave mouth and stared restlessly out at the snow-dusted landscape. Since Archer had fallen ill he had only left the cave for the absolutely necessary chores of collecting wood and water. He hadn't gone out hunting in the past seven days and he was starting to become a little concerned about their food supply. The ration bars would only last so long and the small cache of meat from his last successful hunting trip was nearly gone. But if he went hunting, he would probably be gone much of the day and he hesitated to leave Archer for very long. The fever was gone, but Archer remained pale and weak. 

"Will you be okay if I go out to hunt?" Reed finally asked. Archer who was sitting next to the fire, wrapped up in a blanket looked up at Reed. 

"Yes. I'll be fine." 

"Are you sure?" Archer frowned a little in irritation. 

"Yes. I'm sure. I can survive for a few hours on my own, Malcolm. I promise."

__________________________________

Reed was tired. He had managed to kill a small deer-like creature, but the animal hadn't gone down immediately. Instead, it had taken a huge leap forward before collapsing. It's momentum had carried it over a ledge and down into a narrow rocky ravine. It had taken Reed nearly an hour to retrieve the blasted thing. Now, dirty and bruised from the exhausting climb, he was finally heading home.

Reed stopped and knelt by the stream for a quick drink. As he stood up, his vision blurred. He blinked and pressed his fingers hard over his eyes. With his eyes closed he suddenly became aware of the silence that surrounded him. Apprehension prickled at the back of his neck. It was as if the forest was holding its breath, waiting for danger to pass. Moving slowly, Reed eased his kill to the ground and drew his phase pistol. He scanned the forest for any sign of movement. 

The sudden snap of a twig was the only other warning he received. He threw himself sideways, but not before claws caught him. He screamed as they raked down the left side of his back. With a sharp twist he wrenched away from the attack. There was a horrible tearing sound as the claws ripped free from fabric and flesh. 

Reed brought up the phase pistol and fired at the massive shadow. It kept coming, a bone-rattling roar issuing from its gaping mouth. He scrambled backwards, firing twice more. The shadow surged forward then collapsed, thrashing violently, scratching deep gouges in the frozen dirt. Reed shot it again and it went still. 

Reed stared at the creature. It wasn't as big as he had first thought, but it was big enough. There was no question that it was a predator. Retractable claws adorned the large padded feet and the mouth contained a double row of sharp serrated teeth. Thick mottled gray fur covered its body, providing a natural camouflage. Black eyes, now glassy with death, stared up at him from a wedge-shaped head. With its bulky shoulders and long heavy tail it looked like some kind of bizarre hybrid of hyena and leopard. Reed hoped that it was a solitary hunter, but he wasn't willing to bet his life on it. 

The numbness in his back was giving way to burning pain. Blood scalded his skin, soaking into his clothing, but there wasn't much he could do about it at moment. Some deep- seated instinct was telling him to leave the area quickly. He had learned a long time ago to trust his intuition. Ignoring the growing pain in his back, he skirted the dead predator and picked up the small deer. The predator had probably been drawn by the scent of its blood. Reed thought briefly about leaving it behind, but they needed the meat. 

He moved cautiously but quickly through the forest, alert to every small sound. His clothing was soaking up most of the blood from his back, but he knew he was leaving a heavy scent trail of his own. If he were lucky the smell of his foreign blood wouldn't be very attractive to the indigenous predators. He thought about crossing the stream to confuse his trail, but decided it wasn't worth the risk of hypothermia. He didn't know if the animals were ground trackers; if they weren't then crossing water wouldn't do the least bit of good. He just didn't know. He didn't know anything about them, except that they were dangerous. Several times he paused and listened for signs of pursuit, but each time the forest greeted him with its normal symphony of sounds. 

Reed cached his kill in a tree some distance from the cave. He didn't dare bring it anywhere near their shelter. Not now. The risk was too great. The agonizing slashes across his back were proof of that. He tried to shut out the pain as he cast the rope over a branch and hoisted the gutted carcass into the air. He hoped it would be enough to keep it out of reach of scavengers. It was the best he could do for now. 

Archer was sound asleep when Reed arrived back at the shelter. Reed looked longingly at the fire. He was cold and exhausted but he couldn't rest yet. The pain in his back was frighteningly intense and it would only be worse tomorrow. Part of him realized that he was acting irrationally. He knew that he should wake Archer and get his wounds tended to. But he also knew that if he stopped now he wouldn't be able to get back on his feet again. He didn't dare rest until he had put up more supplies. Water first then wood. Before leaving, he built up the fire as a deterrent to anything that may have followed him. He was extremely grateful for the added protection of the stockade and made sure the gate was tightly shut. 

He worked with a grim determination, knowing that water and wood were essential to their survival. He had filled the tank yesterday, but he made another trip the stream to fill both canteens and the bucket. Wood was harder. He didn't want to waste energy cutting wood down to size now, and elected instead to drag some of the smaller deadfalls back to the shelter to cut later. 

He was wrestling yet another heavy branch up to the cave when his body finally rebelled and he collapsed. For a time, all he could do was lie on the snow-dusted ground, panting with pain and exhaustion. Cold sweat rolled down his face; hot blood down his back. He had pushed too far and would pay a heavy price for it. But they had supplies. 

He could feel moisture from the melting snow creeping into his clothing. Up. He needed to get up. With the last of his strength, he forced himself to his feet and staggered back to the shelter. He left the branch behind. What they had would have to be enough. 

He was immensely grateful for the warmth of the fire. He sank down beside it intending to rest for just a moment before trying to deal with his wounds. The heat felt so good and he was so tired. He let his eyes slide shut. He would rest for a little while first... 

"My God! Malcolm what happened?" Archer's voice roused him into a muzzy awareness. Despite the fire's heat, Reed found himself shivering uncontrollably. 

"P-predator." He replied through chattering teeth. He wanted to turn and assure Archer that he was fine, but for some reason he couldn't find the energy to do so. Hands touched his back cautiously. He tried not to flinch away from the slight pressure. 

"Any other injuries?" Archer asked tersely. 

"N-no." 

"Are you sure?" 

"I think so. I d-don't know." He wasn't sure anymore. He was having trouble organizing his thoughts. The hands left his back and he could hear Archer rummaging through their meager first aid supplies. "Where's the scanner?" Archer asked. Reed stared at the fire and tried to work up the strength to help look for it. It was too cold and he was too tired. 

"Malcolm, are you with me?" 

"What?" Reed's voice sounded loud in his own ears and he jumped slightly as a hypospray hissed against his neck. 

"Easy. Just something for the pain." Archer said as he tugged on the zipper of Reed's jacket. Reed helped the best he could to shed the jacket, the upper part of his uniform and his black shirt. His movements felt disjointed and clumsy. The shredded shirt stuck painfully to the wounds, adhered by drying blood and he gave a sharp yelp of pain as it pulled away. 

"Sorry." Archer said softly. Reed fought to focus his thoughts. 

"H-how bad?" He asked. 

"It's pretty deep, but it looks like most of the bleeding's stopped. I'll need to clean it out. But first, let's get you out of this wet uniform." Reed squeezed his eyes shut, but didn't protest as Archer took off his boots and quickly stripped him of the rest of his clammy blood-soaked clothing. The heat of the fire felt wonderful against his chilled flesh and the drug was starting to take effect, smoothing away the sharp edges of his pain. 

"Here." Archer placed a warm blanket over Reed's lap, tucking it around his legs. Reed watched dully as Archer retrieved the medical kit and the bucket of water. Archer crouched behind him and pressed a cloth against his back just under the deep wounds. Reed clutched at his blanket and closed his eyes against the sudden painful sensation of water running over torn flesh. A cold sticky sweat broke out on his forehead when Archer started scrubbing the wounds with a gauze pad and surgical soap. He knew it was necessary to clean out any contaminates, but even with the analgesic in his bloodstream it hurt like hell. He desperately wanted to lie down. More water sluiced down his back and then Archer was patting at it with a wad of dry gauze. The light repetitive pressure sent small shocks of pain through his body and he had to clench his teeth against the nausea rising in his throat. Bright sparks danced in front of his closed eyes. 

"Almost done." Archer's voice came from far away. Archer's hands moved over his back, sealing a patchwork of bandages over the wounds. "Malcolm, are you still with me? Malcolm!" A hand grasped his chin and he found himself looking into Archer's worried green eyes. He blinked in confusion. Archer let go of his chin and moved away. Reed wanted to protest. He missed the warmth of the other man's hand on his face. But Archer was already back by his side holding the rest of their blankets. Archer settled himself beside Reed, pulling the younger man close. Reed resisted. 

"No. Don't." 

"Malcolm, you're going into shock. You need to be warm." 

"Blood scent." He tried to explain, knowing it was important, not wanting to put Archer in any danger. 

"Shock is a far greater threat right now. Don't worry. See? The phase pistol is right here. If any predators try to come in here we can shoot them. Or if you prefer I can throw you out to them. Whichever makes you feel better." Archer's voice was light but his eyes remained anxious. 

"Making fun of me." Reed mumbled. 

"No. I'm not making fun of you. I'm worried about you. Now come here." Archer folded his arms carefully around Reed, drawing the blankets around them both. Too tired to protest anymore, Reed let him. It felt good--warm and safe. Safe. It was his job to keep them safe and now...His heart began to pound painfully as the gravity of their situation started to sink in. 

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Reed said miserably, his body suddenly shivering with more than cold and shock. 

"For what?" 

"Stupid to get h-hurt. Should have been more careful." 

"It's okay, Malcolm." 

"No, it's n-not. Not good. Both of us d-disabled." 

"We'll manage. Trust me. It's okay. It's okay." Archer's voice was steady and soothing and Reed found himself slowly relaxing into the warm embrace. He wasn't sure how long they sat together, but eventually his shaking body stilled and the world lapsed into soft silence.

__________________________________

Day Fifty

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. The sound intruded into his slumber, pulling him toward consciousness. For a time he hovered on the indistinct border between sleep and wakefulness. His body felt pleasantly lethargic but some small part of his mind warned him that moving would bring the pain roaring back. Thwack. Thwack. The rhythmic sound was suddenly interrupted by a harsh spate of coughing. Reed didn't like the sound of that. He groaned and opened his eyes, blinking against the daylight. Pain radiated from his back as he sat up and turned his head toward the source of the sound. He saw Archer doubled over near the woodpile, axe in hand. "Jon? Are you all right?" Several more tearing coughs racked Archer's body. 

"Yes." Archer managed to get out between the paroxysms. He wiped at his streaming eyes with his sleeve. "I'm okay." He croaked. 

"You don't sound okay." Reed said. The blankets had slithered down his chest and he shivered at the caress of cold air on his bare skin. He glanced down at himself and realized that aside from the bandages he was naked. He started to pull the blankets up around his shoulders, but the movement caused the pain to flare into a burst of agony. He closed his eyes and tried to will it away. It didn't work. 

"I'm doing better than you are." Archer said walking over to Reed's side. He placed a hand on Reed's forehead, searching for signs of fever. "How do you feel?" 

"Fine. Just a little sore." Archer gave a small snort of disbelief. Reed forced himself to open his eyes and look Archer in the face. "Really. It's not so bad. I'll manage." 

"Here. Let me take a look." 

"It's fine." 

"Malcolm, let me see." Reed huffed a sigh of impatience but allowed Archer to peel off the bandages. 

"How does it look?" He asked. 

"There's a lot of drainage, but I can't see any signs of infection." 

"That's good." 

"I'll need to clean it out again and change the bandages." Archer said almost apologetically. 

"Fine." With Archer's help, Reed moved from the bed over to their log bench by the fire. Archer picked up the hypospray but Reed stopped him from injecting the drug by closing a hand over his wrist. 

"No." 

"What?" 

"I don't need it." 

"Like hell you don't!" 

"A little pain won't kill me." 

"A little pain, is it?" Archer pressed his fingers lightly over the wound, evoking a strangled cry from Reed. "That's not a little pain, Malcolm! What does it take for you to admit..." 

"Jon." Reed interrupted. "Listen to me. I can do without it for now. I might not be able to later. It's best to save what little we have for when that time comes." Archer regarded Reed unhappily for a few moments before giving a resigned sigh. 

"You're sure?" 

"Yes, damn it. I'm sure. Just get it over with." Reed snarled back. He didn't want the chance to change his mind. 

Archer said nothing. He worked as quickly as he could, knowing that speed was the only kindness he could give Reed at the moment. Afterward, he wiped the cold sticky sweat away from Reed's face with a damp cloth. "I'm sorry." He said softly. "I know you're right, but that doesn't mean that I have to like it." 

"I think I like it even less." Reed replied weakly. Archer let Reed rest for a moment more before gently pulling him to his feet and steering him back to the nest of blankets. Archer lowered Reed carefully down onto the bed. A small moan escaped the injured man. 

"Malcolm?" Archer said, his brow wrinkling with concern. Reed didn't answer but Archer could see his body trembling from pain or cold or possibly both. "To hell with this." Archer muttered. He flipped the blankets over Reed then went to the medkit. He rummaged through it until he found the nearly empty bottle of oral analgesics. He took it and a mug of water back to the bed. Reed scowled at him when he saw the bottle. 

"No." 

"You need it." Archer said. 

"I'm fine." 

"No, you're not. I won't risk having you go into shock. At the very least you need something to take the edge off so you can rest. I'm offering you a choice. Either you take this now or I hit you with the hypospray when you're not looking." Archer shook two of the tablets out into the palm of his hand. "What's it going to be?" Reed hesitated then reached out to take the pills with shaking fingers. With Archer's help he sat up and swallowed the medication. 

"Happy now?" Reed asked as he lay back down. Pain leached the sarcasm from his voice. 

"No, but it will do for the moment." Archer gave Reed's arm a gentle squeeze. "Get some rest, Malcolm. Let the medicine do its work." 

"Jon?" Reed's voice was faint. "Would you stay with me, please? I'm cold." 

"Sure." Archer tried to sound casual, but he was worried by the request. It was unlike Reed to admit to any kind of discomfort, and it made Archer wonder just how badly he was hurting. He took off his boots and slid under the blankets. He could feel small tremors racing across Reed's body. Concerned, Archer pressed himself closer and Reed shifted slightly to rest his head against Archer's chest. Hesitantly, Archer raised his hand and stroked it gently over Reed's forehead. He expected his touch to be rebuffed with an indignant protest but Reed only sighed and closed his eyes. "Rest now." Archer whispered.

__________________________________

"Hmm?" Reed stirred slightly and blinked sleepily.

"Hey there. How do you feel?" 

"Better. How long was I asleep?" 

"Not long. Maybe an hour." 

"Oh." He paused, and then added "Thank you." 

"For what?" 

"Staying." He felt Archer's hand come up and cover his own in a small gesture of comfort. He was grateful for the contact. Archer felt like a furnace against his cold skin...except he wasn't cold anymore. Ignoring the pain he lifted his head to look at Archer's face. 

"Your fever's back." 

"I know." Archer said quietly. 

"Jon..." Reed stopped not sure what to say. Fear crowded into his throat. They only had a few doses of the antibiotic left and there was little else they could do against illness. Archer's hand tightened over his own. 

"I know. Go back to sleep." Reed lay back down. He could hear Archer's heart beating beneath his ear. It was now a soothingly familiar sound, but it was still a long time before sleep claimed him.

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Day Fifty-nine

Ten days. Ten long days had come and gone since the attack and Reed knew beyond a doubt that they were in trouble. How much longer could they hold out? Sweat stood out on his brow and his body shook with effort as he tipped the full bucket over the lip of the tank. Water splashed and swirled. The tank was only half full and he was already beyond exhausted. Reed set the bucket next to the tank and then retreated to sit by the fire. He would rest for a bit before continuing with his tasks. 

He drew in a long shaky breath and ran his hands over his face. It took so very little to tire him and his wounds still showed no signs of healing. They would start to dry up and scab over, but always broke open again, leaving his back a raw and oozing mess. Pain and fever sapped his strength constantly. Without wood and water they were dead, but he knew deep in his heart that he wouldn't be able to keep this punishing routine up much longer. 

What was the point anyway? Archer was dying by inches and there was nothing he could do to stop it. They had run out of antibiotics days ago. Reed didn't need the medical scanner to know that fluid was slowly and inexorably filling up Archer's lungs. He only had to listen to the labored rasp of Archer's breath to understand what was happening. Even the most minor exertion left the older man gasping and struggling for air. 

Reed feared that some night he would wake up to the harsh gasps of Archer's agonal moments or, worse, he would wake up to a deep and final silence. When that happened he would be alone on this frozen nightmare of a planet. It was only a matter of time. 

Tears welled up in his eyes. He blinked rapidly to hold them at bay. He had never been one to cry easily and he wasn't about to start now. "Damn you. Don't." He whispered to himself, shutting his eyes. It didn't help. He felt the hot tears trace down his cheeks and drip off his chin. Helpless to stop the flow, he buried his face in his hands. 

"Malcolm?" Archer's voice was a hoarse rasp. "Are you okay?" Reed drew in a sharp breath and surreptitiously tried to wipe his eyes. He hated this. Hated being weak, hated showing it even more. 

"I'm fine." He said thickly. "I'm just trying to catch my breath." 

"Liar." Archer wheezed. "Neither one of us is fine. Come over here." Archer lifted the corner of the blanket invitingly. 

"Can't." Reed said, shaking his head "I need to get more water." 

"You need to rest." Reed's fear and grief flared into bitter unfocused anger. He surged to his feet. "And if I rest then who's going to keep us alive! Tell me that!" 

"Malcolm..." 

"Tell me! What's going to happen when that tank runs dry?" His voice shook. "Or when the fire goes out?" The last word came out as a sob. Mortified by his lack of control, Reed wrapped his arms around himself as if he could squeeze his emotions back inside. "Jon," he said unsteadily "what's going to happen when I can't do this anymore?" 

"Malcolm, it's okay. Please. Just come here. Rest for a little while. Please." The raw distress in Archer's raspy voice brought Reed up short. Not sure what else to do, he obeyed the request. He crawled under the blanket and into Archer's warm embrace. "Just rest. Okay?" Archer said as he wiped the cold tears from Reed's face. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Reed mumbled, breathing short and shallow in a tremendous effort to control himself. 

"Don't be. It's okay." 

"No, it's not. We're in trouble." 

"I know." Archer replied. He coughed, a harsh violent sound, and then continued, every word an effort. "But I haven't given up hope and neither should you." 

"I haven't, but we're running out of time. I don't know how long I'll be able to..." Reed's voice faltered. He squeezed his eyes shut, silently wrestling with his bleak thoughts. 

Archer brushed his fingers gently across Reed's cheek. "I know. It's okay." There was soft forgiveness in Archer's voice. It was almost as if Archer was giving him permission to give up; as if Archer was expecting him to fail. 

"I'm not giving up, damn you!" Reed protested angrily. 

"I didn't think you were. But it's okay to rest. Remember that." Another harsh tearing cough shook Archer's body, causing him to struggle for breath. 

"I will." Reed replied, but he silently resolved not to fall apart again. It was a weakness they couldn't afford. He fixed a steady gaze on Archer. "I won't give up." He said again. 

"Good." Archer said with a tired smile. "Rest now." Reed closed his eyes and waited in silence until Archer's wheezing breaths fell into the steady rhythm of sleep. He ran a hand over Archer's forehead. Fevered skin burned like fire against his hand. 

"I'll be back as soon as I can." He whispered. Moving stealthily, he extricated himself from Archer's embrace. Pausing only to pick up the canteens and bucket, he left the shelter and was soon swallowed by the dark press of trees.

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Day Sixty-Something

Reed had lost count of the days. Archer was becoming more and more unresponsive, sleeping most of the time. To make matters worse, Reed's own wounds were starting to go septic. Without Archer's help, he hadn't been able to tend them properly. Reed couldn't see the infection, but he could smell it--a faint yet unmistakable odor of corruption. Given time, it would kill him. 

Their food supplies were dangerously low. Reed forced Archer to eat the ration bar mush whenever he could get the sick man awake enough to swallow without gagging. He kept himself going by choking down the tough meat from his infrequent kills. It wasn't enough. They were both loosing weight, consumed from within by fever. 

Finding food was difficult, but keeping the ravenous fire fed had become a never-ending nightmare of a task. Reed began to use the phase pistols to cut wood. He no longer had the strength to wield the axe. It didn't matter. His body was failing far faster than the charges on the pistols. In desperation, he began to dismantle the stockade a piece at a time; using it for firewood on those days he simply couldn't bring in enough to keep the fire going. 

It was a question of dying now or later. Without the fire, the cold would surely kill them and there hadn't been the slightest sign of predators since the attack. It would be far easier to die now, to let the merciless cold carry them both away. It would be so very easy to die. But Reed had promised Archer that he wouldn't give up, and so he slowly destroyed what he had labored to build, sacrificing its protection for a few more hours of warmth. 

As he worked to keep them alive, Reed often found himself speculating on what would kill them in the end: cold, illness, hunger, or predators. And sometimes, late at night, he found himself wondering if they had already died and been consigned to this frozen hell for all eternity.

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Day ??

Reed injected the painkiller into his arm. The effect was barely noticeable. He wasn't sure if the pain was that much worse, or if his body was merely becoming resistant to the drug. It didn't really matter. There was only enough for three, maybe four more doses. He wouldn't be able to function without it. 

He glanced over at Archer's blanketed form. "Hurry up and die, Jon." The bitter words slipped out and Reed was horrified that he had spoken the terrible thought aloud. What kind of man could even think such a thing much less speak it? What did it say about him that he regretted his promise to Archer? That all he wanted to do was lie down and die? But the promise had been given and a Reed always kept his word. The walk to the stream took a long time now and he needed to get started before the minor relief of the analgesic wore off. 

He was always careful when he approached the stream, still wary of predators. As he came into the clearing a quick flash of movement caught his eye. He froze. The small creatures looked a bit like squirrels with flat triangular tails. They were playing, chasing each other along the frozen banks of the stream. Two months ago the sight of such carefree exuberance would have made him smile. He didn't smile now; he only drew his phase pistol from its holster and quickly set it to stun. He sighted carefully then squeezed the trigger once, twice. The small animals fell over in the snow-dusted grass. Reed quickly picked them up and slit their throats with the hunting knife. He watched dispassionately as their strange pale red blood drained onto the ground. Their deaths would buy another day of life for Archer and himself and that was all that mattered. He placed the small bodies in his carry bag and then filled the canteens and bucket. With a grunt of pain he hoisted the load up and started his halting journey home.

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His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dim light in the cave, so he wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing. A dark shape loomed over Archer's unconscious form. Reed didn't know what it was, only that it wasn't right, and therefore dangerous. Adrenaline roared through his body like a drug, obliterating thought and reason. He dropped his burden. Water sprayed across the floor causing the fire to hiss and smoke.

Growling a wordless challenge, Reed slammed into the intruder knocking it to the ground. Agony tore across his back as his rotting wounds ripped open. He ignored it and rolled to his feet, quick as a cat. He put himself between Archer and his assailant, the phase pistol now in his hand, unerring in its aim. With a flick of his thumb, he changed the setting from stun to kill. The form raised its hands in submission and spoke just as his finger began to tense on the trigger. 

"Easy, Malcolm! It's just me!" The words were like a slap across the face. Reed stared at the figure in disbelief. 

"T-trip?" he stuttered. 

"Yeah. It's me." Tucker replied, slowly getting to his feet. Reed's aim didn't waver. "You want to put the weapon away now?" 

"I..." There was a soft scuffing sound behind him and Reed whirled, bringing the phase pistol to bear on a new target. 

"Whoa!" Mayweather said, putting his hands out in front of him. 

"Hey now, let's all take it easy." Tucker said in a composed voice. "Malcolm, put down the weapon." Reed glanced uncertainly at Tucker. It was too much. His fevered mind wasn't sure that any of this was real. "That's an order Lieutenant." Reed slowly let his hand and weapon drop to his side. He watched warily as Tucker approached, but didn't resist as the other man pulled the phase pistol from his grasp. It felt real. 

"I...I wasn't expecting...It's been so long..." Reed faltered and stopped, not sure if he was making any sense. A tremor ran through his body, but he didn't dare give it thought or attention. Fever, fatigue, and pain were all eating at him, eroding his tenuous control to a thin thread. He didn't know what would happen if it snapped. 

"I know. I'm sorry, Malcolm." Tucker said. "We got here as quickly as we could. We ran into some real bad trouble on the way back. And then it took a long time to find your signal. There's a lot of atmospheric interference." 

"I-I tried to boost the signal. I...we had to..." Reed started to explain, but he fell silent when Archer stirred slightly. 

"Malcolm?" Archer mumbled. Reed quickly knelt down beside him. 

"I'm here." 

"Voices?" The word was cut off by a harsh racking cough. 

"Yes. They've found us. Trip and Travis are here." Reed hated the fact that his voice shook. Archer muttered something unintelligible in reply. 

"What's wrong with him?" Tucker asked worriedly. 

"He's very ill." Reed said. He rubbed his hands over his face, and tried to collect his thoughts enough to form coherent sentences. "Some kind of pneumonia, I think. Antibiotics slowed it down a little, but we...we ran out." 

"Don't worry. I'm sure Phlox will have him fixed up in no time." Tucker turned around and addressed Mayweather. "We need to get them back to the ship. Put that fire out. We'll come back for the rest of this stuff later." 

Reed fought the urge to scream in protest as Mayweather raked through the fire and killed every last ember. The fire had come to represent safety and security in his mind and he felt the loss of its warmth like a physical blow. "Malcolm?" Reed tore his gaze away from the dead smoking remains of the fire and focused on Tucker. "I'll need Travis to help me carry the captain. It's not far. Will you be able to make it on your own?" 

"Yes. Of course. But I'll need my phase pistol back." 

"Why don't I hold onto it for now." Tucker said carefully. 

"I need it. There are predators." 

"Is that why you were building a fence?" Tucker asked curiously. 

"Yes." Reed didn't bother to tell him that he had been ripping it apart for firewood. It wasn't important anymore. Tucker reluctantly handed the weapon back to him. It had been reset to stun but Reed didn't care. It's weight felt good in his hand. 

"Let's go then." Tucker said as he and Mayweather gathered up Archer, using one of the blankets as a crude stretcher. 

The short trip to Shuttlepod Two was far harder than Reed thought it would be. He followed Tucker and Mayweather through the forest and thought longingly of the few remaining doses of painkiller that lay abandoned in the cave. Why hadn't he thought to take it? 

He stumbled over a tree root and nearly fell. He managed to stay on his feet but a small cry of pain escaped him. "Malcolm? Are you okay?" He looked up to see Tucker watching him, eyes filled with concern. Reed clenched his jaw and doggedly pressed on, ignoring both the question and the look. He didn't dare stop now. "Just a little farther." Tucker said encouragingly. Reed didn't waste any energy on a reply. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He could see the shuttlepod in the distance, a beautiful sight. By the time they reached it, only sheer willpower was keeping him on his feet. As soon as he stopped moving his legs gave out and he sat down heavily onto the cold ground. 

"I'll just wait here." He said with a short delirious laugh. Tucker and Mayweather exchanged worried looks across Archer's blanketed form. Reed watched as they took Archer into the shuttlepod. He wanted to follow, but he couldn't summon the strength to stand. A few moments later, Tucker reappeared and took him by the arm. 

"Come on." He said, hauling Reed to his feet. Tucker helped him through the hatch and pushed him down onto a padded bench. "You're hurt, aren't you? Why didn't you tell us?" He said angrily. Reed only stared at him, tired and confused. "You stupid, stubborn son of a bitch, you..." 

"Trip. Please. Just...please." Reed interrupted wearily. He couldn't think straight anymore. He hurt too much and was far too tired. Tucker looked like he wanted to say more, but relented and moved up to the front of the shuttlepod to help Mayweather with takeoff. 

Reed simply sat next to Archer. He wanted to touch him. But he didn't. He didn't know what to do anymore. Everything seemed wrong. The lights in the shuttlepod were too bright. The sounds and scents here were hard and metallic and too different from the earthy noises and odors of the forest. He stared down at the carry bag that was still slung across his chest and thought about the dead animals that it held. Even they weren't right anymore. Their deaths had been rendered pointless and he suddenly felt bad about having killed them. He gently placed the bag on the floor. Then he closed his eyes and concentrated very hard on holding himself together.

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A hand touched his shoulder, pulling him abruptly out of his stupor. He looked up to find the shuttlepod crowded with people. There were too many people pressing around him. Reed could feel his anxiety mounting. "Malcolm, you still with us?" Tucker asked him.

"Yes." He replied, but his entire focus was on Archer who was being placed onto a stretcher by two medics. 

"Come on. Let's get you down to sickbay." Tucker tried to direct him over to another gurney, but Reed shook him off. 

"I can walk." He said tightly, following Archer and the medics out of the shuttlepod. Tucker was shadowing him ready to offer help if he faltered. But he wouldn't. He would go for as long as he had to. 

Sickbay also seemed too crowded; it's lights strangely bright. Reed wanted to go to Archer's side, but Tucker forced him to sit down on one of the biobeds. Phlox bustled around Archer's still form. When the medics started wheeling Archer away toward one of the small isolation rooms, Reed's apprehension flared into something close to panic. He surged off the bed. "Where are they taking him?" 

"Easy, Malcolm." Tucker grabbed his arm to prevent him from following. "The Doc's going to take care of him, okay? Just take it easy." 

Yes, Reed thought. Trip was right. He needed to stay in control. Reed sat back down and tried to ignore the anxiety that twisted in his gut as Archer disappeared from his sight. He stared down at his hands. They were badly scratched and there was dirt under his fingernails. The sleeves of his uniform were torn and stained. The dirt bothered him. "I'd like to have a shower." He said suddenly, not sure why his voice was shaking. 

"Sure." Tucker said easily "But let's get you checked out first. Here comes Ensign Cutler now." Reed didn't bother to look up. He went back to examining his hands. Blood had created intricate patterns in the tiny creases of his skin. He wondered if the blood was his own or if it had come from the squirrel creatures. 

"Lieutenant Reed, may I look at your back?" Cutler's voice startled him. He looked up to find her standing next to him with a scanner in her hand. 

"Is Jon all right?" he asked. 

"I'm sure he is." Cutler said kindly. "Dr. Phlox is taking very good care of him. But right now why don't I have a look at your back?" 

"Yes, of course." He brushed absently at the dirt on his sleeves. 

"He's pretty out of it." Tucker said apologetically. 

"He's running a high fever." Cutler said. "I'm surprised he's doing as well as he is." Reed frowned. They were talking about him as if he wasn't here. It annoyed him. 

"I'm fine. May I go now? I'd like to get cleaned up." He started to slide off the biobed, but Tucker caught his arm. 

"Why don't you let Liz take a look at your back first?" 

"Already said she could, didn't I?" Reed snapped. 

"Your uniform?" Tucker prompted gently. 

"Oh." Reed fumbled at the zipper, but his hands didn't seem to work right anymore. In the end Tucker had to help him. 

"Aw hell, Malcolm." Tucker exclaimed in horror when Reed's back was finally exposed. In the confines of sickbay the stench of the uncovered wound was overpowering. "What happened?" 

"I told you." Reed said, suddenly feeling sick and lightheaded. "I said there were predators." 

"How long ago did this happen?" Cutler asked. 

"It got infected." Reed mumbled. "Not good." Cutler's gloved fingers brushed lightly over the inflamed gouges. Reed screamed and jerked away from her touch. 

"Whoa! Easy there." Tucker said as he caught Reed's shoulders. "Not good, is right." 

"Sorry." Cutler said. 

"Said you could look." Reed gasped, trying to pull away from Tucker's restraining hands. 

"Hold him." Cutler said. She quickly prepared a hypospray and pressed it against Reed's neck. 

"Oh." Reed said with a trembling exhalation. He had lived with the pain for so long that its rapid recession took him by surprise. "'S better." He relaxed into Tucker's grasp, letting his head fall forward onto the engineer's shoulder. He drew in several sharp ragged breaths. It was increasingly difficult to stay upright even with Tucker's support. 

"Should he be reacting this way? He's breathing kind of funny." Tucker's voice echoed strangely in his ears. Reed's agreeably hazy world started to slide into a murky abyss of darkness. The abrupt change was frightening. He tried to call out for help, but he wasn't sure if anyone heard him. He felt hands easing him down into black oblivion.

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It was colder than it should be. He reached out blindly, seeking the solid warmth of Archer's body. His hand met empty air. There were no sounds of breath or life next to him. Panic seethed in his mind. He sat up so quickly that he nearly fell off the biobed. He glanced around wildly until he saw Archer in the bed next to his own. It was only then that rational thought started to reassert itself. Sickbay. They were in sickbay. They had been rescued. He rubbed his hands over his face and shivered slightly. He was still cold. Not surprising considering he was dressed only in a loose-fitting sickbay gown. A rumpled blanket lay at the foot of the bed. Reed pulled it up around his shoulders.

He glanced at the readout above Archer's bed. It looked like everything was fine, but he needed to find out for himself. Moving cautiously, Reed slid off the bed. He waited for the pain to flare, but it never did. There was only a twinge of mild discomfort and a wave of dizziness that quickly passed. Clutching the blanket around himself, he padded over to Archer's side and contemplated the sleeping man. 

Archer looked terrible, his face pale and drawn in the dim light. Tentatively, Reed reached out and gently stroked his hand along Archer's jaw. He smiled at the feel of clean- shaven skin under his fingers. He put his hand to his own smooth chin. Someone had made an effort to tidy them up a bit. The thought cheered and disturbed him at the same time. He was glad to be clean again but the thought of someone handling his unconscious body made him uneasy. 

Reed pulled a chair up and sat down, placing his hand over Archer's. They were alive. "You were right, Jon." he whispered. He leaned down to rest his head against Archer's shoulder. The contact made him feel warm and safe and alive. But he knew that he had no right to it. Faith and duty had both failed him in the end. He shivered and closed his eyes against a dark wave of guilt and shame. "Forgive me. You were right."

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"How are they doing, Doc?" Tucker asked.

"They're both responding well to treatment, but I'm a bit concerned about Lieutenant Reed. He seems unusually depressed and withdrawn." Tucker frowned. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well for one thing he's been a model patient. Normally he argues quite vociferously for an early release from Sickbay. I suspect he may be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. With their injuries, he and the captain could not have had an easy time on that planet. It might help if he had someone to talk to about the experience. So far he hasn't said anything to me, but perhaps you might have better luck." Tucker glanced over at Reed who sat listlessly in a chair next to Archer's biobed. 

"Would it be okay if I took him out of here for a while? Maybe let him get cleaned up a bit and take a trip down to the mess hall? A change of scenery might do him some good." 

"Certainly. As long as you take care not to tire him out too much." 

"Leave it to me, then." Tucker said with a grin. He made his way over to Reed. "Hey, Malcolm." Reed looked up briefly but dropped his gaze back to the floor almost immediately. 

"Commander." He said quietly. 

"It's Trip, Malcolm. Why don't we forget the ranks for now." Reed glanced up, a strange expression passing over his face. "You okay?" Tucker asked, a bit puzzled by the reaction. 

"Fine. I'm sorry Trip. It's...strange being back." 

"Yeah. I guess it would be." Tucker replied with a smile. "Here, I brought you something." He handed a book to Reed. "I found it when we were cleaning out that cave. I thought you might like to have it back." Reed stroked his hand over the wolves on the cover. 

"How did you know it was mine?" 

"The inscription in the front." 

"Oh." There was an awkward pause. "Thank you." 

"Hey, you want to get out of here for a little while?" Tucker asked. Reed's gaze darted toward Archer then back to the book in his lap. 

"I...I don't know if that's a good idea." 

"Why not?" Tucker asked. "Phlox said it would be fine." Reed fidgeted a bit in his chair. 

"I can't go out like this." He said finally, plucking at his robe. 

"No problem" said Tucker. He went over to the decon clothes lockers and pulled out a t-shirt and sweatpants. He tossed them to Reed who made no effort to catch them. "There you go. Come on, Malcolm." Tucker cajoled. "We'll stop by your quarters first and you can get cleaned up. You practically insisted on getting a shower when you first got back." 

"A shower would be nice." Reed admitted with a small spark of interest in his eyes. He picked up the t-shirt. "All right. You win, Mr. Tucker." Tucker grinned at him. 

"I'll wait for you outside." Reed pulled the privacy curtain closed and slowly changed clothes. Then he went over to Archer and stroked the back of his hand down the sleeping man's face. "I need to go out." He said softly. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

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His quarters seemed strangely empty and sterile. Reed carefully placed the book on the shelf above the bed, then pulled clean clothes from his closet and made his way to the tiny lavatory.

"I'll just wait here." Tucker said, sitting down at the desk. "Holler if you need any help." 

"I'm sure I can manage." Reed replied closing the door behind him. He found himself staring at the mirror. He hardly recognized himself. His face was gaunt and pale, sporting two days worth of stubble. Gray eyes held a haunted look that was only emphasized by the dark shadows under them. His father would have a fit if he could see him now. "An officer should always look his best." He whispered halfheartedly at the mirror. "And you look like hell Reed." 

He stripped and stepped into the shower, adjusting the temperature up as hot as he could bear. He put his hands against the stall wall and leaned into the cascade of water. The sealed wounds on his back stung under the onslaught. For a long time he simply watched the water swirl down the drain. 

He wondered when he would start feeling something other than anxiety and a pervasive sense of guilt. Maybe he never would. Perhaps the cold of the forest world had sunk too deeply into his soul. The swirling water held no answers, so he forced himself to stand up straight and reached for the soap.

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Alpha shift lunch was long over and the mess hall was largely deserted. Still, several crewmembers had come up to welcome Reed back. He felt strange talking to people other than Archer. "Here." Tucker put a plate of food and a mug of hot tea down in front of Reed. "You look like you could use some feeding up. I imagine..." Tucker's voice trailed off. Reed had gone utterly still, his face stricken. "Malcolm?" Tucker asked not quite sure what was wrong.

"I did the best I could." Reed's voice was strained. Tucker was alarmed by the abrupt change. Reed's previous listlessness had been bad enough, but now he looked like he was walking far too close to the edge. 

"I know you did." 

"You have no idea how hard it was. Keeping us fed, warm, alive..." 

"I wasn't criticizing you." Tucker said carefully, hoping to defuse whatever had Reed so wound up. Several seconds trickled by in silence before Reed rubbed his hands over his face and drew in a deep breath. 

"I'm sorry, Commander. I...it was a difficult experience." The listlessness had returned, but Tucker knew that it was only masking something much worse. Phlox was right to be concerned. 

"You want to talk about it?" 

"What is there to talk about? We survived." Tucker sighed in defeat. He knew it was better not to push right now. 

"All right, but if you change your mind, I'm here. Now eat up. Chef made that specially for you. If you don't eat it, he'll work himself into a snit and serve nothing but resequenced meatloaf for a month." Reed managed a thin, almost imperceptible, smile. 

"Can't have that, can we?" He said picking up his fork. Despite his words, Reed spent more time pushing the food around on the plate than he did eating. Tucker restrained himself from commenting on it; instead he passed on the latest gossip hoping that the light conversation would ease the tension at the table. 

"Trip?" Reed said suddenly. For the first time since arriving back on the ship, Reed looked Tucker in the eye. 

"Yeah?" Tucker prompted gently. The turmoil he saw in Reed's gaze worried him. There was a long silence. 

"Down there, I..." Reed swallowed hard and averted his eyes. Tucker waited quietly, hoping that Reed would continue, but the other man remained stubbornly silent, staring down at his cooling tea. After a few moments Reed spoke again. "I'm very tired. I'd like go back to sickbay now." 

"Sure, Malcolm." Tucker said.

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Reed lay listlessly on the bed and wondered why Phlox hadn't released him yet. Obviously his physical health had improved to the point where it wasn't necessary for him to still be in sickbay. He fidgeted slightly against the pillows and tried to focus on the adventure novel he was reading. Hoshi had brought him an entire PADD full of the silly things. They were engaging enough, but he found it hard to concentrate on anything for long.

He sighed and placed the PADD on the bedside table. Maybe he should just try to go back to sleep. He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and closed his eyes. He was just starting to doze off when a soft sound jerked him back to awareness. He sat up quickly. 

"Jon? Are you awake?" 

"Mmmn." Archer murmured. Reed threw off the blankets and went over to Archer's side. 

"Jon?" He said, placing his hand over Archer's. Archer blinked and stared up at him blearily. 

"Hey. We made it." Archer said, his voice a sleepy rasp. 

"Yes." Reed managed to reply. 

"Told you they'd find us." Archer smiled. Reed tried to summon a smile of his own and failed. 

"Yes. You were right." 

"Are you okay?" Archer asked, his eyes searching Reed's. Reed forced himself not to look away. 

"Fine. I'm fine." The lie came easily. 

"Good." Archer said his eyelids drooping slightly. "I'm glad we..." 

"Hey, look who's finally awake!" Tucker's voice made Reed jump slightly. He gave Archer's hand a quick squeeze and then let go. He backed away as Tucker moved forward to greet his friend. It wasn't long before Phlox noticed the commotion and came over to tend to his patient. 

Reed watched the others fuss over Archer for a while before stepping out into the corridor. He leaned against the bulkhead and took several deep breaths. Archer was awake; he was going to be all right. Tucker and Phlox would take care of him now. Reed pushed himself away from the wall and made his way to his own quarters. There was no need for him to stay in sickbay anymore. Archer was going to be fine.

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A bolt of fear pierced his chest as he came awake in total darkness. The fire! He had let the fire go out. "Jon?" he reached out and came in contact with something soft and cool, too cold to be a living body. He snatched his hand back and sat in the dark, heart pounding. "No." He breathed. "No, no, no." Slowly he reached out again. The cool softness greeted his touch and he deliberately closed his shaking hand around it. It gave way, too soft for flesh, living or dead.

Memory came flooding back in a disorienting rush. He reached out and pawed frantically for the light switch. Brilliant light flooded his quarters. He blinked. A pillow. He was holding a pillow. He dragged it to his chest and hugged it tightly, trying to dispel the sickening fear that still tightened in his throat. "He's alive." He told himself. "Phlox released him from sickbay this afternoon. He's fine." 

Trying to ignore his pounding heart, he dimmed the lights and lay back down. Exhaustion pulled at his body and mind. He wanted sleep desperately, but it eluded him. After a while he gave up. He released the pillow and untangled himself from the bed sheets. He put on some clothes and exited his quarters. 

Within minutes, he found himself standing outside Archer's quarters, hand raised to press the chime. "You're a bloody fool." He muttered to himself. His rational mind knew that Archer was fine but the rest of him wasn't so sure. Time went by. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but eventually he dropped his hand and forced himself away from the door. What would he say anyway? 'Sorry to wake you sir, but I needed to make sure you were still alive?' No. Archer was fine.

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"That doesn't look like light duty to me, Lieutenant." Reed glanced up from the phase cannon assembly he was working on.

"Commander." He said coolly before focusing his attention back on his task. 

"Malcolm, don't you think you're pushing yourself a little too hard?" 

"No, I don't." 

"Well, I do. You've only been back on duty for two days. Phlox said you were supposed to take it easy for at least a week." He gave Reed a hard look. "When was the last time you ate, anyway? I haven't seen you in the mess hall in ages. And given that you look like death warmed over I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you haven't been sleeping too good either." 

"I'm fine." Reed fitted the wrench to a bolt. 

"Like hell you are!" 

"I said I'm fine, Commander." Reed snapped as he tugged on the wrench. "You don't have to hover over me like I'm some kind of invalid." 

"Malcolm..." The wrench slipped and fell with a clatter. 

"Bloody sodding hell!" Reed shouted, slamming his fists violently against the assembly. A dead silence fell over the armory as people turned to stare in shock at Reed's uncharacteristic outburst. Reed leaned against the cannon assembly, head bowed, the muscles in his shoulders and back rigid with tension. 

"Back to work, people." Tucker called to the onlookers. At his order, the startled armory personnel quickly ducked back to their tasks. "Malcolm?" Tucker almost put his hand on Reed's shoulder, but hesitated at the last second. He wasn't sure what was going on and he didn't want to make it worse. "You okay?" Reed shook his head slightly. 

"You're right, Commander. Perhaps I have been working too hard. Permission to take the rest of my shift off?" 

"Of course. But Malcolm..." 

"I'll be fine. If you'll excuse me?" Reed didn't wait for an answer, only turned on his heel and quickly left the armory. Tucker stared after him, but didn't follow. He picked up the wrench and placed it in the toolbox. This was getting out of hand. It was time to try a different tactic. 

"Capt'n," Tucker said. "I really think you should try talking to him. He's wound so tight, I'm worried that he's just gonna snap. Phlox thought that letting him back on light duty would help, but it hasn't. If anything he's worse." 

"Talking to him is easier said than done." Archer said unhappily. "He's been avoiding me since he left sickbay. I thought maybe we had become friends, but I guess I was wrong." Archer sighed. "I can't say I blame him. To be honest, I was nothing but a useless burden to him." 

"It's not just you. He's been avoiding everyone--me, Hoshi, Travis--everyone." Tucker said. "Something's really eating him." 

"What makes you think he'll talk to me?" Tucker shrugged. 

"You were down there with him. I'd say that gives you a better chance than the rest of us." 

"Maybe." Archer said, clearly not convinced. He gave another sigh. "I'll try, but don't expect any miracles."

__________________________________

Archer eventually tracked Reed down in the officer's lounge. Reed was standing in front of the observation window, one hand splayed flat against the transparent pane. He seemed completely lost in his contemplation of the streaming stars.

"Malcolm?" Reed whirled around as if expecting an attack. 

"Captain. You startled me." Reed said. He relaxed his stance slightly, but his face remained wary as Archer walked over to his side. 

"Pretty, isn't it?" Archer said nodding toward the window. Reed stared at the stars, but said nothing. "You know," Archer tried again. "We've never really talked since getting back. How are you doing?" 

"Fine, sir." Reed said, crossing his arms in an unconscious defensive gesture. 

"That's not what I hear." Annoyance passed over Reed's face. 

"You've been talking to Commander Tucker." It was a statement not a question. 

"He did say something about an incident in the armory." 

"I assure you it won't happen again, Captain." Reed said stiffly. 

"That's not what I'm worried about. It's obvious that something is bothering you." 

"I'm fine." Archer's temper flared. 

"Don't give me that 'fine' bullshit! Come on Malcolm, talk to me. You owe me that much, I think." Reed stared at the floor. Archer reined in his anger with some difficulty. "If everything's fine then why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something to upset you?" Reed looked up sharply, finally meeting Archer's eyes. 

"No! Of course not." 

"Then what is it?" Reed's gaze slid away. Finally, he mumbled something to low for Archer to catch. 

"What?" 

"I said, I can't sleep." 

"Nightmares?" Archer asked. "I've had a few of those myself since we got back." 

"No. Not nightmares." 

"Then what?" Reed shifted nervously. An uncomfortable silence stretched out between them. "Malcolm?" 

"When we were down on the planet...when you were ill...I was...I would listen to you breathe." Reed's voice was so soft that Archer had to strain to hear it. 

"I'm not sure I understand." 

"I would listen to you breathe. Even when I was asleep, some part of me was monitoring you." Reed hesitated before continuing on in a desperate rush "As long as I could hear you, I knew that you were alive and that we were all right. Now I can't sleep. I wake up time and again because all I can hear is silence. I wake up and I think that you're dead." 

"Malcolm..." 

"I badgered Phlox into giving me some sedatives, but they only made it worse. They just left me even more disoriented. I..." 

Archer reached out and grabbed Reed by the arm, stemming the flow of words. "Come on." 

"What?" Reed asked, startled. 

"Come with me." Archer said dragging Reed out of the lounge and down the corridors to his quarters. Archer punched in his door code and herded Reed into the room. 

"Captain, what...?" 

"Take off your boots and get in." Archer said pointing at the bed. Reed stared at him wide-eyed. 

"Captain, you can't be serious!" 

"No!" Archer rounded on him so furiously that Reed took a step backward. "No captains here! Not in private. Not after all we've been through." 

"But..." Reed started to protest. 

"Please." Archer said quietly. "You need to rest. You kept me alive on that planet, now it's my turn to help you." 

"It's inappropriate." Reed said stubbornly. 

"We've been sharing a bed for the past two and a half months." 

"That was different." 

"How so?" 

"We did what was necessary to stay alive!" 

"And it's not necessary for you to sleep now?" 

"I should be able to sleep in my own bed." 

"Well, we could go to your quarters, but your bunk would be a tight fit for the both of us." 

"You know what I mean! I should be over this by now! I shouldn't need..." He broke off, tight-lipped and grim. 

"Malcolm, it takes time." 

"You seem to be handling it just fine." Reed said bitterly. 

"Am I?" Archer challenged. "I've had my share of problems since we got back. Did you know that I've been reading aloud to Porthos every night? It's the only thing that allows me to fall asleep. And then there are the nightmares." 

"Nightmares?" Reed asked in a subdued voice. 

"Yes. I have nightmares about being alone, being helpless. I was scared too, Malcolm. I was terrified that you would go out one day and never return. I was so damned useless down there. I should have been able to do something to help you. I never wanted you to bear the burden alone, and I don't want you to bear it alone now. Please let me help you." Silence stretched out between them. Reed stared at the floor, his body utterly still. Archer waited silently. He knew if he pressured Reed now, the man would simply bolt. Several long moments passed by. 

"I can't." Reed said finally. 

"Why not?" 

"I failed you." 

"What?" Archer asked in confusion. 

"I wanted to give up." The statement sounded like a confession. "I said I wouldn't, but I wanted to." 

"You didn't." Archer said quietly. 

"Only because of you. If you had died, I would have given up. And near the end..." Reed's voice broke. "Oh God, near the end, I wanted you to die because I was so tired. I just wanted to stop. I wanted you to die so I could give up." Archer closed the gap between them and grabbed Reed's shoulders. Reed flinched at the contact, but Archer refused to back off. 

"Let it go, Malcolm. You didn't give up. You didn't let me die." 

"I wanted to!" The words were raw with self-recrimination. Reed clutched violently at the fabric of Archer's shirt. "Damn you! Don't you understand? I wanted to!" 

"You didn't." Reed twisted from Archer's grasp. He turned away to stare blindly at Archer's desk, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. "Malcolm, a lot of the time courage comes down to enduring. You managed better than most people would have. Even when you were injured and sick, you kept us alive. Don't you think there were times down there when I wanted to give up too? I was terrified they weren't going to find us in time. We get selfish when we're scared. It's normal." 

"You're my friend and I wanted you to die. What kind of man does that make me?" Archer shook his head. 

"It just makes you human, Malcolm. If you had really wanted me dead, I wouldn't be here now. Besides, I was just as selfish. I wanted to be the first to die so I wouldn't be lying there cold and thirsty and alone. If anything, I failed you." Reed shook his head. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Jon. You were ill." 

"And you weren't?" Archer replied angrily. He grabbed Reed by the shoulder and spun him around, only barely repressing the urge to shake him. "I'm allowed to be weak, but you're not? That doesn't sound fair to me. Get over yourself, Malcolm! You're not some kind of indestructible machine. Damn it! For once, just once, let yourself be a normal flawed human being." Reed stiffened and pulled away. For a moment Archer thought that he had pushed too far, and that Reed would leave. But he didn't. 

"Were you really worried that they wouldn't find us in time?" Reed asked hesitantly. 

"Yes." Archer admitted. "I knew they'd find us. I just wasn't sure about when." 

"Oh." Reed was taken aback by Archer's answer. "You always seemed so sure we'd be rescued. Remind me never to play poker with you. So...what have you and Porthos been reading?" Reed's voice was carefully casual. Archer felt a small rush of relief. 

"What else?" He replied with a grin. "The Three Musketeers. It's his favorite." 

Reed gave a small but genuine laugh. "Another classic, but a very appropriate one." 

"We haven't gotten very far so we can start at the beginning if you want." 

"I think I'd like that."

__________________________________

Archer read only a single chapter before setting aside the PADD. "That's enough for tonight, I think."

"Yes." Reed agreed as Archer slid down next to him. "I'm exhausted." Reed unconsciously sought the other man's warmth, inching closer to snug himself up against Archer's back. 

"So am I." Archer said, reaching up to dim the lights. 

"You aren't going to turn out the lights?" Reed asked in surprise. 

"No. I guess I got used to having the fire." Archer admitted a little sheepishly. 

"Me too." Reed said softly against Archer's neck. 

"Do you think we could figure out some way to build a fire without setting off the fire suppression system?" 

"You volunteering to cut wood?" Reed asked. 

"Good point. Maybe we should just borrow one of T'Pol's meditation candles instead." They laughed quietly then lapsed into silence. 

"Jon," Reed said suddenly "you were never useless. Not to me." He snaked an arm around Archer's waist and pulled him tightly against his body. Archer covered Reed's hand with his own and squeezed gently. 

"I'm glad you decided to stay." 

"Me too. Good night." 

"Sleep well, Malcolm." Reed felt himself relaxing, his fatigued body dragging him down towards somnolence. With a soft sigh, he surrendered to it.


	2. PART 2

**PART 2**

_Do I dare_  
Disturb the universe?  
In a minute there is time  
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse. 

\--T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"

___________________________________

Reed sighed and stretched, grimacing as the muscles in his back pulled painfully. The phase cannons were finally back on line. The targeting scanners would just have to wait until later. He was too tired to deal with them right now. No surprise there. He had worked through nearly two and a half shifts, trying to repair the damage caused by their latest run-in with a hostile species.

The Iskalans hadn't been pleased when Enterprise had accidentally encroached on their space. When Archer had tried to introduce himself, they had opened fire, targeting Enterprise's weapons systems. Not exactly the warmest of welcomes, Reed thought with a rueful shake of his head. A warning shot would have been more than sufficient. 

Reed turned the armory over to Ensign Singh and made his way automatically to Archer's quarters. He lifted his hand to punch in the code, but then hesitated, his fingers hovering just above the buttons. Why am I still doing this? He wondered. 

He had been sleeping in Archer's quarters for almost a month and a half. Although he enjoyed Archer's company, Reed was a little bothered by how comfortable he had become in relying on the other man. Surely by now he should be over whatever trauma he had suffered. He was a grown man. He should be able to sleep in his own bed. Except that he couldn't. 

Reed sighed and opened the door. He moved about quietly in the dim light, shedding his boots and dirty uniform and pulling on a clean tank and boxers. Porthos watched him silently from his dog bed, wagging his tail in greeting when Reed bent to pet him. 

By the time Reed finished getting ready for bed, his muscles were trembling with fatigue. With a grateful sigh, he slid under the blankets. "Malcolm?" Archer mumbled sleepily. "What time is it?" 

"Late. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." 

"You didn't." Archer rolled over and fitted himself against Reed's back, draping an arm around his middle. "Are you okay?" He asked. "You're shaking." 

"I'm fine, just completely knackered. The cannons are back on line." 

"That's good. Get some sleep now." Reed sighed and tried to relax. It was no use. 

"Jon?" He asked softly. 

"Hmmn?" 

"What are we doing?" 

"Sleeping." Came the drowsy reply. 

"No. I mean what are we doing? Don't you think it's a bit strange, what we're doing?" 

"Not really, why?" Archer said, sounding more alert. 

"I just worry that...I don't want to use you as some kind of crutch." 

"Is that what you think you're doing?" 

"Isn't it?" 

"No. I think you're just letting a friend help you through a tough time. I certainly don't think you're using me. After all, you're helping me too." 

"I am?" 

"When you're with me, the nightmares aren't as bad." 

"Oh." Reed said. "I didn't know you were still having them." 

"Occasionally. They're not so bad anymore. Don't worry so much, Malcolm. This lets us both sleep and I enjoy your company. If it's working for us, why worry about it? We're not hurting anyone." Reed sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. 

"No, but..." 

"But what?" 

"I don't know." Reed said frustrated by his inability to articulate his feelings. 

"Depending on your friends doesn't make you weak." Archer said gently. "If anything it makes you stronger. It's okay to accept help when you need it." Reed smiled a little at Archer's words. 

"You make it sound so simple." 

"Maybe you're just making it more complicated than it should be." Reed sighed. 

"You're probably right." 

"I know I am. Trust me on this. Now go to sleep, okay?" 

"All right." The familiar warmth of Archer's body was soothing and before long Reed drifted into a deep sleep.

___________________________________

Reed woke to a slight pressure on his shoulder. He rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes. Archer was standing beside the bed already fully dressed.

"Did I sleep through the alarm?" Reed asked groggily. He rubbed his hands over his sleep-gritted eyes. 

"No. You didn't sleep through the alarm. It's time for lunch." 

"What?" Reed asked in confusion as he propped himself up on his elbows. "What time is it?" 

"Thirteen hundred hours." Reed blinked at the chronometer in shock. 

"Bloody hell! Why didn't you wake me earlier?" 

"I thought that you could use the sleep." Reed sat up with a scowl. 

"So you let me sleep through half my shift? Damn it, Jon, I don't want any kind of special treatment from you just because we're friends. If..." 

"Enough." Archer broke in mildly. "I'm not giving you special treatment. I gave you and everyone on your team who pulled a double shift permission to sleep in this morning. I need my people to be alert and well rested, not falling over with exhaustion." 

"Oh." Reed said, his face coloring with embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have assumed..." 

"Don't worry about it. Now why don't you go get dressed and join me for lunch?

___________________________________

With some effort, Reed managed to push aside his concerns over his odd relationship with Archer. After all, Archer was right. They enjoyed each other's company, and there was no harm in that. Reed still experienced the occasional pang of worry, but for the most part their routine continued to sail along in its strange but comforting pattern.

___________________________________

"I'm glad that's finally over with." Reed said, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow.

"Come on. It wasn't that bad, was it?" 

"Oh yes it was." Reed replied. "The plot was far-fetched at best, the characters were inconsistent and the dialogue tended heavily toward the melodramatic." Archer glanced down at the PADD he still held with a small frown. 

"Well," he said with a shrug. "I liked it." 

"Americans." Reed said dismissively. "Absolutely no taste in literature." 

"Hey now!" Archer protested. "Be nice." Reed grinned. 

"Sorry." He said unrepentantly. 

"Oh, you're sorry all right. Just because you don't enjoy a good adventure novel..." 

"I would have enjoyed it if it had been good." 

"It had some nice descriptions of explosions." Archer reminded him. "You said so yourself." 

"Mmn. I suppose there was that." Reed said with a yawn. He flopped over onto his back and stretched. "What time is it anyway?" 

"Late. Almost 23:30." 

"We should get some rest. We both have an early shift." 

"Yeah. You're right." Archer placed the PADD on the nightstand and then leaned over and kissed Reed lightly on the lips. "Goodnight, Malcolm." He said as if nothing unusual had just taken place. Reed didn't move as Archer dimmed the lights and made himself comfortable under the blankets. He was still trying to name the sensation that had arced through his body when Archer's lips had touched his. Identification evaded him and eventually he gave up in frustration. 

"Jon?" 

"Hmmm?" 

"Why did you just kiss me?" 

"Oh. I...I'm not sure." Archer sounded unusually flustered. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I did it. It just...happened." He rolled over to look at Reed, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dim light. "I've wanted to for a while, you know. I find you attractive." 

"Oh." There was a silent pause. "When?" 

"When, what?" 

"When did you start to find me attractive?" 

"I'm not sure, exactly. I've always thought you were a very compelling man." 

"Oh." Reed didn't know what else to say. 

"I'm sorry, Malcolm." Archer said. "I shouldn't have. It was inappropriate. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to offend you or make you feel uncomfortable." 

"What? No! No, you didn't offend me. It's just...I'm not sure what to think." 

"I am sorry, Malcolm." 

"Don't be. I just need to think. Perhaps we should get some sleep, now." 

"Are you sure?" 

"I'm sure. Go to sleep, Jon."

___________________________________

Reed had a terrible time concentrating during his shift. He kept thinking of the soft pressure of Archer's lips on his own. It had felt...felt like what? Reed gave a small growl of frustration and gently placed the phase pistol on the workbench. The way his mind kept wandering, he'd probably blow a hole in the deck plating if he kept working with weaponry. It would be safer to write up reports and file paperwork for a while.

___________________________________

Reed joined Archer for dinner that evening and neither one of them mentioned the kiss. Archer's interactions with Reed were completely normal and casual. There was no awkwardness, and no indication that Archer had ever thought of him as anything more than a good friend. Reed understood that Archer was leaving the direction of their relationship entirely up to him. He knew that Archer would never mention the kiss or his attraction to Reed again, unless Reed brought it up first. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or disappointed. *

"What's next on the reading list?" Archer asked. Reed consulted the PADD. 

"Hmm. Milton. Paradise Lost." 

"More poetry?" Archer groaned. 

"Afraid so." Reed smirked. "Come on, it's good for you." 

"Another classic." 

"Don't whine. It's unbecoming. We agreed to alternate contemporary and classic. If I could suffer through that awful melodrama, you can suffer through this." 

"Hey! 'Sunset Over Mars' was a good." Reed just gave him a pointed look. "Okay," Archer said, "maybe it was a little overwrought, but I still enjoyed it." 

"And maybe you'll enjoy this if you give it a chance." 

"Oh, all right. I'll try." 

"That's the spirit." 

Half an hour later, Reed stopped reading in the middle of a passage "This is bloody boring, isn't it?" He said in dismay. 

"Ha!" Archer sat up with a triumphant grin. "You're admitting that it's boring! You're admitting that a classic, a European classic, by a British author is boring." 

"Well it is! Don't tell me you're enjoying it?" Reed said as he brandished the PADD at Archer. His voice took on a threatening tone. "I'll keep reading if you want." 

"No!" Archer said raising his hands in surrender. "Don't! Please don't. It's like watching paint dry in the dark. I just didn't think you'd ever admit it." 

"You think you're amusing, don't you?" Reed said hard pressed to conceal a smile of his own. 

"Actually, right now I think I'm more relieved than anything." Archer's eyes sparkled with laughter. "I really wasn't looking forward to slogging through the whole thing." Reed suddenly found himself captivated by Archer's smile. His breath caught in his throat and his heart started to hammer in his chest. 

"Jon, could we try it again?" 

"What? Milton?" 

"No. Not Milton. This." Reed leaned forward and captured Archer's lips with his own in a tentative exploratory kiss. This time he recognized the sensation. It was desire coupled with a profound affection for this unique man. Somewhere along the line he had fallen in love with Jonathan Archer. Well, why not? Archer was good-looking, charming, strong-willed, intelligent...His hand came up to touch Archer's face as their kiss deepened. He's also your captain, a small voice whispered in the back of his mind. What was he doing? "Wait. Stop." He pulled away from the contact, scrambling as far away as he could, nearly falling off the bed in his haste to escape. 

"Malcolm?" Archer asked. Reed couldn't respond. His tongue felt like it was made of lead. Archer reached out and touched his arm. "What's wrong? You're shaking. Do you want me to call Phlox?" 

"No!" 

"What is it? Tell me what's wrong, please." 

"I-I'm scared, Jon." 

"You're scared of me?" 

"No. Not you. I trust you. It's just this..." He waved helplessly at the room. "This goes against everything I've been taught." 

"Because I'm a man?" 

"No. That doesn't bother me." Reed said honestly. "But you're my superior officer." 

"Not in here." 

"You know what I mean! Out there you are. There are regulations against this. We could both loose our careers; everything we've worked for." 

"That's unlikely." 

"It's possible. Jon, this is dangerous. This could have consequences, not just for us, but for the entire ship." 

"All actions have consequences Malcolm. You said this goes against what you've been taught, but let me ask you this: how does it feel? Forget about what you've been told to believe. What do you feel?" 

"I-I need to go." Reed said evading the question. "I'm sorry." Reed slid off the bed and quickly dressed. He paused at the door, but didn't turn around. "On that planet it was easy to pretend that rank didn't matter. We don't have that luxury here." He said quietly before he stepped out into the corridor.

___________________________________

Reed stared around his quarters. They were empty and held no comfort. He hadn't slept here in so long that they might as well belong to someone else. Feeling lost, he curled up on his bunk pulling the blanket tightly around his shoulders. Despite its warmth, he felt colder and more alone than he ever had in his life. He reached up and turned out the lights. The unfamiliar darkness swallowed him. Reed shivered, knowing that he would just have to get used to it.

___________________________________

Days slid into weeks and Reed began to wish that he had never kissed Archer. If he hadn't pushed things, everything would have stayed the way it had been--safe and comfortable. He missed Archer's friendship desperately, but he didn't dare approach the other man until he had some idea of how to deal with his attraction.

Reed wanted Archer. That much he knew. He wanted Archer's warmth, his humor, his lips on his own. But the potential costs were terrifying. He had worked hard to get where he was today. His career was an integral part of his existence and it had sustained him when everything else in his life had failed. What would happen if he lost his position and his relationship with Archer turned out badly anyway? It wasn't as if he had the best track record when it came to romance. Could he bear it if he lost everything? He didn't know. 

The whole thing was made even worse by the fact that others had begun to notice the sudden distance between Archer and himself. Reed was sure that Tucker knew far more than he was letting on. Archer and Tucker were best friends and they confided in one another. Tucker was his friend too, but Reed couldn't bring himself to discuss Archer with him. It simply seemed wrong. He didn't want to put Tucker in the middle of this...thing between Archer and himself. 

It was Tucker who eventually tried to bring the subject up. "So." Tucker said casually as he pulled a burned out power coupling from one of the armory consoles. "How are things between you and the Capt'n?" 

"Fine." Reed replied flatly. 

"Are you sure? I've noticed that you two don't seem to be spendin' as much time together as you used to." Reed shrugged. 

"I've been busy. And so has he." 

"Busy huh?" 

"Yes, Trip. Busy. We both have jobs to do, you know." 

"I think he misses you." Tucker said softly. 

"Trip. Don't." Reed's voice held an unmistakable warning. 

"I'm just saying is all." Tucker said holding up his hands in surrender. "Hand me that microwelder would you?"

___________________________________

The next day, Sato joined Reed for their usual Thursday night target practice session. Reed continued to be amazed by her persistence. Few crewmembers outside of security put so much effort into their marksmanship. Sato's scores were now almost as good as his on stationary targets, although she still tended to get easily flustered when the targets were moving.

"Are you ready?" He asked as he set up the targeting program. Sato smiled at him and nodded. 

"Remember if I beat your score, you have to come see the movie with me on Tuesday." 

"Fine, but I don't think I have much to worry about." 

"Don't get cocky, Malcolm. I've been practicing." 

"Have you now?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, then you can set the bar. You've got a thirty second firing window. Starting...now." Reed watched as Sato tracked and fired at the moving targets. 

"Hah! Beat that!" Sato crowed at the end of her round. 

"You have been practicing. I'm impressed. But I don't think seventy-eight percent is going to be enough to force me to attend the upcoming romantic comedy." 

"You haven't won yet." 

"Watch me." He said with confident grin. She started the program and he hit the first three targets dead on. 

"Malcolm?" Sato asked hesitantly. "Did you and the Captain have a fight?" Reed was stunned by the unexpected question and missed his next shot by a wide margin. 

"What?" He lowered the target pistol, flicking on the safety as he turned to face Sato. "What are you talking about?" 

"I...I just thought that you two had become, um, friends, but lately you've both been kind of tense around each other. I thought that maybe something had happened or..." 

"Hoshi." Reed said wearily. "I am not having this conversation with you." 

"I...I'm sorry. I know it's none of my business. I didn't mean to...I just wanted you to know that if there was anything I could do to help or if you wanted to talk..." Reed gave her a weak smile. 

"I appreciate the thought, Hoshi. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to turn in early. I think I can live with seeing the movie on Tuesday." 

"Malcolm, you don't have to..." 

"It's only fair Hoshi. I forfeit this round to you. Good night." 

"Good night."

___________________________________

Reed stalked down the corridor wondering why everyone seemed so intent on interfering in his life. Other people could only complicate things. He wished that there were some place on the ship where he could be completely alone and undisturbed so he could think clearly. He wished that things were as simple here as they were back on that frozen planet where there were no captains and no lieutenants and no Starfleet regulations.

He turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Archer was leaning against the corridor wall just outside of sickbay, eyes closed. Reed's first instinct was to turn and leave, but Archer's weary, careworn demeanor made him hesitate. Steeling himself, Reed walked up to the other man and laid a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Archer looked up, startled. His face was tight and anxious. 

"Jon?" Reed asked. "What's wrong?" 

"Porthos is sick." Archer said hoarsely. 

"How bad is it?" Reed asked in alarm. He had grown quite fond of the little dog himself in the past months. 

I don't know. When I came off shift I found him vomiting and gagging, so I brought him down here. Doctor Phlox is working on him now." Archer looked away, blinking hard. Reed tightened his hand on Archer's shoulder. He tried to think of something reassuring to say, but couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't sound hollow or trite. 

"Would you like me to wait with you?" He offered softly. 

"Would you?" 

"Of course."

___________________________________

Archer paced around sickbay like a caged wolf. "What's taking so long?" He muttered in frustration. He made another circuit of the room before sitting down next to Reed on one of the biobeds. "I shouldn't have brought him with me." He said despairingly. "I should have left him on Earth. People told me that a starship was no place for a pet. Maybe they were right."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Reed asked. 

"He's sick." 

"He could have just as easily become ill if you'd left him back on Earth." Reed pointed out reasonably. "And then he wouldn't have you to take care of him. That dog loves you. I think he'd be miserable without you." 

Archer was about to reply when Phlox emerged from the small treatment room. "How is he, Doctor?" Archer asked anxiously. 

"Porthos will be just fine, Captain. He merely ate something that disagreed with him. This is our culprit." Phlox held out a corroded metal object. 

"It looks like a deck plating screw." Reed said in surprise. 

"It is." Archer said with a small frown. "Why in the world would he eat something like that?" 

"I am unsure why Porthos chose to swallow it," Phlox said "but it caused some irritation of the stomach lining--that was why he was vomiting. Luckily it did not puncture the stomach wall. Not to worry. It only took a simple surgical procedure to remove it. Porthos should make a full recovery." 

"Can I take him home now?" Archer asked. 

"I'd like to keep him here for a day or two until I'm sure that there will be no ill effects from the surgery and anesthesia." Phlox said. 

"Oh." Archer said in disappointment. "Can I see him?" 

"For a brief moment only, Captain. He needs his rest." Phlox led them back into the small recovery room. Porthos was curled up in a large plexiglas incubator box, a white bandage encircling his middle. 

"Hey, Porthos." Archer said softly. At the sound of his voice, the small dog looked up groggily and thumped his tail against the blankets. Archer reached into the box and gently stroked Porthos' ears. "There's my good boy." Reed watched as Archer fussed over his pet. For some reason, he was rather charmed by Archer's wholehearted devotion to the small animal. He smiled and reached down to pet Porthos along his back, careful not to let his hand touch Archer's. 

"I think it best to let my patient get some rest now." Phlox said, moving forward to usher them out of the room. "You may visit him again tomorrow morning." 

"Thank you, Doctor." Archer replied as they stepped out of sickbay. 

Reed walked Archer back to his quarters, wanting to make sure that the older man was all right now that the crisis was over. Archer hesitated at his door and then turned to face Reed. He reached out and took Reed's hand in his own. 

"Malcolm, would you...would you stay with me? Please." Reed wanted to say yes, wanted to curve his body around Archer's and hold him tightly. But if he did that now, he would be lost, inextricably tangled in a relationship with Jonathan Archer--with his captain. 

"I can't." He said miserably. "I can't. I'm sorry." Feeling like a cad and a coward, Reed pulled his hand from Archer's grasp and left.

___________________________________

A thin gray layer of depression settled over Reed. Not even the announcement of upcoming shore leave could clear it away. Caught in indecision, all he could do was push the problem into the back of his mind and throw himself into his work.

___________________________________

"Hey, Malcolm." Tucker asked. "Do you have shore leave plans yet?" Reed shook his head.

"I was planning on staying here and finishing these upgrades." 

"What? The hell you will! Come on, Malcolm. When was the last time you took some time off?" 

"Trip..." 

"I hear this place has quite the nightlife. We could hit the clubs together." Reed rubbed his hand over his face. He didn't want to go trolling for some anonymous pick-up. 

"Not this time, Trip." Tucker shook his head. 

"You've been working too hard lately. You don't have to go with me, but I'm ordering you to go down and take some leave time. You need to forget about rank and duty for a while and have some fun." Reed froze in the middle of replacing the access panel. 

"What?" He asked. 

"You heard me." Tucker said, picking up his toolbox. Reed watched him leave with a pensive frown.

___________________________________

Reed braced himself before pressing the door chime. After several seconds the door slid open.

"Oh, hi, Malcolm." 

"Hello, Hoshi. I have a rather strange favor to ask..."

___________________________________

Reed stared at his neatly packed gear bag. He had about ten minutes before his shuttle left for the lovely green planet below. He was on one of the later flights because he had signed up late. He could have used his rank to bump someone off one of the earlier shuttles, but that didn't seem fair and besides, he had needed the time to work up his courage.

He sighed and glanced at the chronometer. If he didn't go now he would miss the flight. He stood, picked up his bag, and stepped boldly into the corridor. He didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but he was tired of second guessing himself.

___________________________________

It had been easy enough to find out where Archer was staying, but a fair bit harder to get there. It had taken him a bus ride; two ground car rides and now a ride in a small animal-drawn coach to get to the remote cabin. He gripped the sides of his seat as the coach jolted down the rutted dirt road and decided that next time he should just use the transporter. Having his molecules disassembled was preferable to this.

The pretty llama-like creature pulling the coach snorted and complained as the driver pulled up in front of the small isolated cabin. Reed could hardly blame the animal. It was raining quite hard now. He climbed out and paid the driver, adding a hefty tip even though he had no idea if tipping was customary here. The driver gave him a friendly tilt of his head as he turned the coach around. The llama creature seemed to understand that it was heading back to the stables and took off at a fast trot. Reed stood in the cold rain and stared at the cabin for a few minutes. He wondered if he should have had the coach wait. It would be a long walk back to the small town at the bottom of the mountain if this went poorly. 

Reed stepped up onto the small porch. He wondered again if he was doing the right thing, but he hadn't come all this way to back out now. He swallowed hard and knocked on the cabin door. Seconds ticked by like hours as he shifted restlessly in the rain. He nearly lost his nerve and was thinking about bolting when the door opened. Archer looked like he had been awakened from a sound sleep. 

"What are you doing here?" Archer didn't sound particularly pleased to see him. Reed's heart constricted painfully. This was a mistake. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come." He turned to leave. 

"Wait!" Archer grabbed his arm. "Don't go. I didn't mean to sound so...I just thought that you and Trip probably had plans to hit the clubs." 

"No. I didn't want to..." Reed shrugged helplessly as Archer drew him into the cabin. Water dripped onto the wooden floor. Reed ran a hand through his wet hair in a nervous gesture. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at this." 

"Good at what? Malcolm, why are you here?" There was no heat in Archer's voice, only confusion tinged with curiosity. Reed looked up at Archer. 

"It felt right." He said softly. 

"What?" 

"You asked me how it felt. It felt right." 

"It did?" Archer reached out and gently laid his hand on Reed's cheek. Reed leaned into the warm contact. 

"Yes." Archer bent down and kissed him lightly. 

"Does it still feel right?" Reed closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh. 

"Yes." 

"Would you like to stay?" 

"Would you like me to?" Reed asked uncertainly. 

"Yes. I would." They kissed again, a deeper more passionate kiss. When they broke apart, Archer looked down at Reed in concern. "You're freezing. Why don't you get a shower and change into some dry clothes. I'll make us some something hot to drink." Reed nodded a little shyly, and picked up his gear bag. "Bathroom's over there." 

Fifteen minutes later Reed emerged from the bathroom feeling much warmer and drier. Archer was sitting on a small sofa in front of the blazing fireplace. He turned and smiled. "Feeling better?" 

"Yes. I'm feeling much better. Thank you." Reed silently cursed himself for sounding so stiff and formal. He edged toward the sofa still a little unsure of his welcome. 

"Come sit down." Archer said, patting the cushion beside him. Reed settled on the sofa and accepted a steaming mug from Archer. He took a taste and was surprised by the unfamiliar spicy flavor. 

"What is this?" 

"It's called dashra. It's the local equivalent of coffee." 

"It's good." They sat in silence for a while, listening to the rain tap against the windows. Reed sipped nervously at his drink. 

"I won't bite you know." Archer said softly, lifting his arm in invitation. Reed hesitated for a heartbeat before sliding over to tuck himself against Archer's side, taking care not to spill his drink. Archer wrapped an arm loosely around his shoulders and Reed relaxed into the embrace. 

"I know you won't." He could feel his earlier uncertainty evaporating as he inhaled the other man's familiar scent. "I've missed you." Archer tightened his arm around him. 

"I'm glad you came. It means a lot to me." A little embarrassed, Reed looked down at his mug, rolling it between his hands. 

"What did you say this was?"

___________________________________

A hand was carding through his hair in a gentle repetitive motion. It was extremely relaxing. Rain pounded steadily against the roof and he idly wondered how long the inclement weather would last. Not that he really cared. He could stay here like this forever, his head pillowed on Archer's thigh, warm and content. He gave a small lazy growl of satisfaction and opened his eyes.

He blinked in confusion. The room was dim and he realized with a shock that the fire was now mostly embers and ash. Night had fallen; the world outside the windows was black. A blanket slid off his shoulders as he sat up. 

"Malcolm?" He turned to look at Archer in the weak light of the dying fire. 

"Please tell me I didn't fall asleep." He said in dismay. 

"It's okay." Archer said. 

"No it's not." Reed scrubbed a hand across his face. "It was inexcusably rude of me. I'm sorry." 

"I didn't mind. Really. It was actually kind of nice." 

"Nice?" Reed echoed skeptically. 

"Yes. You looked so peaceful." Archer said, leaning forward to place a kiss on Reed's forehead. "Malcolm, don't worry about it. I know for a fact that you've been pulling a lot of double shifts lately. It's obvious from the way you dropped off that you needed the rest. I'm not offended. Now why don't you build up the fire, while I make us something to eat."

___________________________________

After a light meal they retired to the couch again, taking advantage of the fire's warmth. Reed found himself glancing at the dark windows. "Is there any way to cover those?" he asked suddenly.

"Why? There's no one else around here. And even if there was, who would be out in this weather?" 

"I don't know, but I don't like the idea of someone being able to see us without us seeing them. We're too exposed, easy targets." Archer didn't argue. He merely showed Reed how to latch the unusual wooden interior shutters and then waited patiently on the couch, sipping his dashra. Reed prowled around the small cabin like a restless animal, testing and securing the door and windows. 

"Everything okay?" Archer asked when Reed finally rejoined him. 

"Yes." Reed said. "Those locking mechanisms are actually quite good. Clever design. They'd be hard to pick, but a well placed micro-charge might..." Reed's voice trailed off as he gazed thoughtfully at the door. Archer took a sip of his drink to hide his smile. Trust Reed to become entranced by the thought of blowing up an alien lock. After a few seconds Reed shook his head and gave a small laugh. "Sorry." He said sheepishly. "Oh, I almost forgot." Reed got up and quickly returned with a PADD. "Here." He said, handing it to Archer. "I brought us a book to read." 

"What is it? More nineteenth century stuff?" Archer asked, trying to hide his disappointment. Reading wasn't exactly what he had in mind for the evening. 

"No," Reed said with a faint smile "we had a classic last time, remember? It's contemporary." Archer took a quick gulp of his dashra and scrolled down to the cover page. He almost spewed the liquid out when he saw the lurid cover art. As it was he barely managed to swallow and ended up coughing violently. "Passion Fruit?" He choked out the title. Reed looked back innocently. 

"I just thought you would like something different. I borrowed it from Hoshi." 

"Hoshi!" Archer said in disbelief "Hoshi reads this stuff?" 

"She said it was, and I quote, 'a particularly juicy one.'" 

"You're bluffing." Archer said. 

"Why would you think that?" 

"Come on, Malcolm, this is hardly the kind of thing you normally read." 

"Maybe I'll discover that I've been missing out on something all these years." 

"I'm going to read it." Archer threatened. Reed leaned in close. 

"I dare you."

___________________________________

After yet another outrageously explicit passage, Archer paused in his reading. "This is positively obscene. Are you sure Hoshi reads this stuff?" He asked, disbelief coloring his voice. Reed smirked.

"Yes. Shocking isn't it? Makes you wonder how she manages to look so innocent." Reed took the PADD from Archer and silently reread the last passage "Is that even anatomically possible?" He asked. 

"I doubt it." Archer replied. "But we could give it a try, if you want." Reed eyed Archer speculatively. 

"I honestly don't think either one of us is flexible enough. Pity." 

"We could try that other thing." Archer said with a sly grin "You know, the one back in chapter three." 

"Ah, yes, that. But where would we get a trampoline this time of night?" Reed asked. They both burst into laughter. After a while they sobered slightly. Reed sat up and put aside the PADD. 

"Jon, could we...I've never..." he broke off blushing, his earlier boldness evaporating. "I've been attracted to other men before but I've never..." 

"Acted on it?" Archer supplied. 

Reed nodded. "Could we start with something simple?" 

"Of course." Archer said gently. "I'm not sure I'm up for trampolines yet myself. We can take this as slow as you want." Reed reached out touched Archer's face, stroking his thumb over his lips before leaning forward to kiss him. The tentative kiss swiftly became more heated as their tongues touched. 

Archer was a little startled when Reed shifted forward to straddle his legs without breaking the kiss. Archer groaned and ran his hands down Reed's back. Reed pressed his body against Archer, and bit gently at Archer's lip. 

Archer pushed his hands down lower, sliding them over the curve of Reed's ass. "Wait. Wait." Reed said, pulling back suddenly. Archer gave a frustrated growl. Silently damning Reed's skittishness, he reluctantly lifted his hands. He expected Reed to move away, but Reed was tugging on his shirt. "Too many clothes." He said. "I want to see you." Reed tossed the shirt away. He made a small noise of satisfaction as he ran his hands down Archer's bare chest. He scooted back a little on Archer's lap and unfastened the fly of Archer's jeans. His thumb brushed lightly over Archer's cloth covered erection. Archer gasped and let his head fall back against the arm of the sofa. Reed slid off of him altogether and stood. He patted Archer's hip. "Lift." He said. Archer obeyed, letting Reed pull off his jeans and underwear. There was a long silence. 

Archer lifted his head and saw Reed gazing at his naked aroused body with a quiet intensity that was utterly electrifying. "Magnificent." Reed said softly. "You are magnificent, Jonathan." Archer's breath caught in his throat. He was enthralled by the open desire in Reed's eyes. 

Archer stood and pulled Reed into his arms. "Malcolm." He nuzzled his face against Reed's neck, drawing in his unique scent. Slowly, he began to strip Reed, taking his time in uncovering Reed's fit wiry body. "Malcolm." He murmured, sliding his hands over Reed's chest. 

He took Reed's hand and led him over to the bed. They lay together face-to-face, exchanging kisses and light touches. Reed slid his hand over Archer's flank and hip and down to his hard cock. Reed began to rub it gently and Archer felt his pleasure mounting rapidly. A little too rapidly. He reluctantly pulled Reed's hand off his cock and bent to kiss him. He shifted Reed onto his back and covered his body with his own. "Is this okay?" He asked, suddenly a little worried by Reed's silence.

"Yes." Reed said. The word was carried on a soft exhalation. 

"What do you want, Malcolm?" Archer asked. Reed gave him a slow sexy smile. 

"Everything, anything, as long as its you Jonathan." Archer suddenly found himself having to concentrate on the sound of the rain in order to control himself. He reminded himself to keep things simple; not to damage the gift of trust that Reed had just handed him. 

Archer started to rock his hips against Reed, slowly building heat and friction between them. Reed rose to meet him, their bodies sliding together as their movements gained in speed and intensity. Reed came first, biting down lightly on Archer's shoulder with a low growl. The sound sent a shiver down Archer's back and he gave a small wordless cry of completion as his own orgasm washed over him. 

For a time they lay together, panting and breathless. Archer rolled over onto his back, pulling Reed over on top of him, ignoring the sticky mess they had created. Reed propped himself up on his elbows and smiled down at Archer. 

"Magnificent." He said with a happy laugh. 

"I agree." Archer said with an answering smile. He slid his hand up Reed's neck, tangling his hand in the short dark hair and then pulled Reed down for another kiss.

___________________________________

eed stretched lazily on the bed and watched as his naked lover walked over to the windows and opened the shutters. Pale daylight filtered into the cabin.

"It's still raining." Archer said. "So much for going hiking." 

"What a terrible shame." Reed said insincerely. "I guess we'll have to think of something else to do." Archer grinned. 

"I can think of a few things." He said, climbing back on the bed. 

"Like what?" 

"Come here and I'll show you." Archer said, pulling Reed close. 

"Mmmm. What are you doing?" 

"I want to make you growl again." Archer said, kissing him deeply. 

"Well, then," Reed murmured when the kiss broke off "you're going to have to try harder than that." 

"Oh?" 

"Oh, yes. Much harder." Reed breathed as Archer slid down his body, trailing kisses down his chest and stomach. Archer looked up and gave a sly grin. 

"Really?" He asked, pressing his hands against Reed's hips, pinning him to the bed. 

"Real-..." Reed's voice broke off in a sharp gasp as Archer's mouth closed over his erection. Reed threw his head back on the pillow, his hands clutching convulsively at the blanket. "Oh..." 

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

___________________________________

"This is much nicer than a cave." Reed said, as they lay spooned together on the bed listening to the ever-present patter of rain on the roof. "Nice soft bed, not nearly as cold."

"And no predators." Archer added, running a hand lightly down Reed's scarred back. Reed gave a faint sigh. 

"There are always predators, Jon." he said seriously. Archer laughed. 

"Don't you ever relax?" 

"I am relaxed. Can't you tell?" Archer didn't reply but his hand continued to travel over Reed's body, stroking gently over his hip and thigh. Reed's skin was soft except where it was marred by evidence of old wounds. 

"Mmmm. That's nice." Reed said. 

"You have a lot of scars." Archer said as he caressed a thin ridge of scar tissue on Reed's shoulder. 

"Comes with the job, I'm afraid." Reed tried to keep his voice light, but he could feel his body start to tense. 

"How did you get this one?" Archer's fingers started to trace an ugly network of scars along Reed's ribcage, but Reed suddenly reached up to trap Archer's hand in a hard grip. 

"Jon?" he asked in a strained voice. "Could we please not talk about this now?" 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." 

"It's just...I'm happy being here with you. I'd rather not talk about work right now." 

"What would you rather talk about then?" Archer asked as he nuzzled Reed's neck. Reed rolled over and kissed Archer deeply. 

"Who said anything about talking?" he asked.

___________________________________

"Jon?"

"Hmm?" 

"When was the last time we ate?" 

"Why? Are you hungry?" 

"Yes. Starving actually." 

"Me too."

___________________________________

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Just relax, Malcolm. We can't do this if you don't relax. I won't hurt you." 

"I know you won't." 

"Do you want to stop?" 

"No. Keep going." 

"You're doing fine." 

"Oh! No, please don't stop. That was nice."

___________________________________

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Absolutely brilliant. Let's do that again." 

"God, Malcolm, are you trying to kill me? I'm not eighteen you know." 

"Well, what else are we going to do? It's still raining." 

"Did you bring anything else to read?" 

"Well, Hoshi loaned me several of those novels..."

___________________________________

"Malcolm?" Archer's voice pulled him back from the edge of sleep.

"Hmmm?" 

"What happens when we go back to Enterprise tomorrow morning?" Reed felt his body go very still at the question. He struggled to find an answer, but Archer interpreted his silence correctly. "So is this how it's going to be? Professionals on board, lovers on shore?" Archer asked quietly. 

"That might be for the best." 

"The best for who?" Archer asked harshly. 

"For the ship. We both have responsibilities. We can't afford to be distracted. Jon, I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't good at this. We should have talked about this before..." 

"Damn right we should have! A distraction? Is that what I am to you, Malcolm? Some kind of toy you can take out of the box and play with when it's convenient? 

"No!" Reed started to protest but Archer interrupted. 

"Because I can't do that. I can't compartmentalize my life as easily as you do." Reed drew in a sharp breath. 

"You think this is easy for me?" He asked in stunned disbelief. "You think I don't..." His voice faltered then hardened. "We're skirting the fraternization regulations as it is, Jon. I never thought I would do that for anyone. I'm sorry it's not enough for you." He vacated the bed, struggling to extricate himself from the tangled sheets. He quickly pulled on his clothes and shoved his feet into his hiking boots, not bothering to tie the laces. 

Behind him he could hear Archer getting out of the bed. "Malcolm. Malcolm, wait." Reed ignored him. Without looking back, he flung open the door and strode out into the pouring rain. Within moments he was soaked to the skin. Feeling sick to his stomach he simply walked, not sure where he was going, wanting only to get away. 

He should have known better. He should have known that this relationship would end in failure like all the others. Every one of his previous lovers had wanted more from him than he was able to give. Why should Archer be any different? 

And now everything was ruined. There was no going back. His impulsive decision to show up on Archer's doorstep had destroyed any chance of regaining their friendship and had possibly even harmed their working relationship. He had thrown everything away in a moment of absolutely breathtaking stupidity. 

"Malcolm! Wait!" Archer's voice rose over the roar of the rain. Reed didn't stop, only flung out a hand in a sharp gesture of negation. He didn't want to wait; didn't want to listen to more of Archer's hurtful accusations. Footsteps splashed in the puddles behind him and a hand fell lightly on his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. "Malcolm, please. Let's talk about this." Reed couldn't bear to turn around. He stared at the sodden ground. 

"What is there to talk about?" He asked wearily. "This obviously isn't going to work." 

"Don't say that." Archer pulled Reed around to face him. Reed blinked in surprise. Archer had run after him dressed only in his boxers and boots. Archer rubbed his hands over his bare arms and gave him a rueful smile. "You were moving pretty fast. I didn't want you to get away." 

"Oh." Reed said stupidly, feeling at a loss for words. 

"You were right, Malcolm." Archer said apologetically. "We should have talked about this before. I'm sorry. Please, come back to the cabin with me and we'll talk." Reed hesitated, then swallowed hard and nodded. 

"All right. We'll talk." 

They were both shivering with cold by the time they got back to the cabin. Archer went into the bathroom and emerged with some towels. He started to hand one to Reed, but stopped. "You're completely soaked. You should just go hop in the shower." 

"What about you?" Reed protested. 

"I'll be fine once I dry off and get some clothes on. Go on before you catch pneumonia." Reed found himself obeying without really meaning to. He felt frighteningly numb both physically and emotionally. He peeled off his sodden jeans and sweater and stepped into the shower. It was only then that he noticed how badly he was shaking. He reached down and turned up the hot water. 

He stood under the spray for a long time. Eventually his shaking diminished but the shower did nothing to ease the core of ice in his stomach. He wondered how long he could stay in here before Archer became concerned. "Coward." He whispered to himself. "Just get it over with." He shut off the water. 

Once again Archer was waiting for him on the couch by the fireplace. Reed couldn't bring himself to sit down. Instead, he moved to stand in front of the fire and held his hands out over the blaze. The heat stung pleasantly against his skin. He was relieved that he could still feel something. He leaned forward a little. Too close. The fire's bite crossed over into pain. Hastily he pulled his hands back and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. He spoke without turning. "That wasn't fair, you know. What you said." 

"I know. I'm sorry." 

"So am I." Reed continued to stare into the fire. Silence ruled the small cabin for several long moments before Archer spoke again. 

"I'm not good at being patient, Malcolm. I watched my father die waiting for his dream to come true. That changed something in me. I never meant to fall in love with you, but now that I have I don't want to waste time. I want more than just a shore leave affair with you." 

"What exactly do you want from me?" 

"I want a relationship. On ship and off." Reed turned and looked at Archer. 

"And damn the consequences? What if someone decides to make an issue of it?" Archer shrugged. 

"Then they make an issue of it and we'll deal with it." 

"Just like that?" 

"I didn't say this would be easy. I'm just saying that I think it's worth the risk." 

"It's too late to go back to being just friends, isn't it?" Reed asked miserably, already knowing the answer. 

"Yes. I'm sorry." 

"I need to think about this, Jon. I honestly don't know if I can give you what you want." Archer made a small noise of frustration. Reed held up a hand to forestall any argument. "I'm not trying to put you off. I really do need to think. Not thinking is what got us into this current mess. We both assumed that other understood exactly what was being offered. That was a mistake. I need to decide if I can accept what you're offering me and if I can give you what you need from me." Archer sighed. 

"You're right. But just how long am I supposed to wait for you this time? The last time you walked out..." Archer's voice trailed off. Reed rubbed a hand over his face. He could feel the beginnings of a pounding headache behind his eyes. 

"I know. I'm sorry. A week. Give me a week." 

"All right." Archer said slowly. "A week." Reed gave a curt nod. 

"I'll call for a transport." 

"It's late and we're both exhausted. Why don't you stay? You can sleep on the couch, if you like." 

"I suppose." Reed said reluctantly. "If you're sure you don't mind." 

"No." Archer said sadly. "I don't mind."

___________________________________

Reed was sitting alone in the far corner of the empty mess hall staring at the cold congealed plate of pasta. "Looks like you could use a friend." Tucker's voice broke into his black thoughts. Reed gave a short humorless laugh, not bothering to look up.

"He told you I suppose." It was a statement rather than a question. 

"Yeah. He told me. Look, he's upset about this too. He really loves yo-..." Reed looked up abruptly, fixing Tucker with a challenging stare. 

"Trip, I don't think this is really any of your business." 

"I know, but just listen to me, okay. You're both my friends and I want to help. I think he just needs to know where you stand for once and for all. He can't turn it on and off like..." 

"And I can?" There was a sharp undercurrent of pain in Reed's voice that was impossible to miss. "Why does everyone seem to think this is easy for me?" 

"I never said that it was. Do you love him?" The question seemed to catch Reed off guard. He stared at Tucker. "Well, do you?" 

"Yes, damn you. I do." 

"Then what's the problem?" 

"The problem is that he's my superior officer. We'd both be putting our careers on the line! If someone chose to make an issue of it..." 

"You and Jonny have been sleeping together for months." Tucker said mildly. 

"Yes, but that's all we've been doing, at least until recently. And that was only on shore leave; not on the ship." 

"And you think people are gonna believe that?" Reed's eyes widened in shock. "What? You didn't know that your relationship has already gone through the ship's gossip mill? You two have been discrete, but folks notice these things." Reed felt the blood drain out of his face. 

"I...I haven't..." He stammered feeling a little faint. How could he have been so stupid? 

"Don't worry. If someone wanted to make an issue of it, they would have already." 

"That doesn't mean that they won't do so in the future if it serves a purpose." Reed said darkly. 

"If that's the case, then the damage is already done, isn't it?" 

"May as well hang for a sheep as a lamb?" Reed asked still shaken by Tucker's revelation. 

"Something like that. Look. Starfleet knows that this mission is something altogether different. There's already talk of loosening the regs on fraternization." 

"But they haven't been loosened yet, and I doubt they'd ever loosen them enough to allow for this...particular situation. Do you really think our relationship would survive if the worst happened? Trip, he loves this ship." 

"It seems to me that he loves you more if he's willing to risk loosing her for you." 

"I'm not worth the risk." Reed said flatly. 

"He thinks you are." 

"Then he's wrong." Reed stood and stalked out of the mess hall. Tucker stared after him, wondering if he had just made things worse.

___________________________________

Two days later, Tucker managed to corner Reed in the observation lounge. Reed sighed. At least this time Tucker had brought along a six-pack.

"I think you're makin' this a lot more complicated than it has to be, Malcolm." Tucker was saying. Reed picked absently at the label on his beer bottle. He hadn't planned on discussing this with Tucker again, but the alcohol was making him feel a little reckless. 

"Trip, you know I don't have the best track record with relationships. What happens if I screw this up? I might be left with nothing except a reputation for trying to sleep my way up the chain of command." 

"You know when I was a kid there was a big stream near our house, so big it was almost a river." Reed rolled his eyes at the ceiling in frustration. 

"Trip, what does this have to do with..." 

"Just listen, okay? This stream, me and my friends used to spend hours fishing and playing in it. It was fast and bright and you could see clear down to the bottom. Even see the fish swimming in it. But there was one place where it cut through a grove of trees that it was different, unfathomable and mysterious. The currents there ran strong and deep. 

The relationship I have with Jon is like the rest of the stream, bright and transparent. What you have with him reminds me of that slow, deep part, unexpected and surprisingly strong. I envy you that sometimes. I really do." Reed gazed at Tucker thoughtfully. 

"I never suspected you were a poet." He said quietly. 

"I'm just full of surprises. But let me tell you something else, Malcolm. Me and my friends, we were always drawn to that dark part of the stream. It was beautiful and fascinating, but we never dared to go into it. You know why? Because we were afraid of it, afraid of what we couldn't see under the surface, afraid of getting pulled in." 

"The drowning metaphor really isn't helping, Trip." Reed said in a pained voice. 

"Would you shut up and listen? What I'm trying to say is don't throw away what you and Jon have just because you're scared of what might happen. Some things are worth the risk of getting hurt for." With that Trip drained the last of his beer and stood. "Gotta run." Reed stared after him feeling more conflicted than ever.

___________________________________

The punching bag swayed and creaked on its metal cable as Reed gave it one final brutal blow. He was sweating heavily and his hands ached under their protective wrappings. Worse, he felt just as confused and conflicted as ever. He had been hoping that a hard workout would give him some clarity of mind or at least tire him out enough to make thinking too difficult. He was no closer to a decision than he had been six days ago. Archer was expecting some kind of answer from him tomorrow and he still had no answer to give.

He sighed and wiped his face with his towel. Picking absently at the wrappings on his hands, he made his way to the locker room. He usually showered and changed in his own quarters, but he was dripping with sweat and didn't feel like walking all the way back to his empty cabin in his workout clothes. He stepped over the threshold and froze when he heard the voices of several crewmembers. 

"...see Lieutenant Reed taking apart that punching bag? I wonder who he's pissed at." 

"I'm just glad it's not me." 

"Maybe he and the captain had a little lover's spat." 

"Reed and the captain? You don't think the rumors are true, do you?" 

"Well, I've got it on good authority that Reed spends his nights in Archer's quarters." 

"Really? Where'd you hear that?" 

"Huh. Archer never struck me as the type who swung that way. Reed, maybe..." 

"Well, if it's true the Lieutenant is a lucky man. Captain Archer is quite a catch." 

"Oh, who cares what they do on their off duty hours. It's not like they're the only couple on this ship. Does it really matter?" 

"I suppose not. Just as long as they keep it professional on duty." 

"You've got to be kidding. This is Reed we're talking about. Anybody else and I might be worried, but Reed?" 

"You're right. I bet he'd use the captain for target practice if Archer tried to give him any kind of special treatment." There was a brief burst of laughter. 

"Speaking of shipboard romances, you'll never guess who I saw sneaking out of Ensign Dawson's quarters last night..." Reed backed away silently, trying to process what he had heard.

___________________________________

Reed crawled through the access hatch and dropped his tools into the toolbox. His neck and shoulders ached fiercely and he stretched in a futile attempt to relieve the terrible tension in his muscles. A mild headache throbbed dully behind his eyes. He had a little over two hours before he was supposed to meet Archer for dinner. And he was still caught in indecision. He hated it. As a tactical officer, he was used to being able to make quick decisive choices--hesitation in battle usually led to disaster. So why couldn't he make a decision concerning his personal life? Maybe Trip was right. Maybe he was making this more complicated than it had to be.

He sighed and looked around the armory, staring at the racks of torpedoes. For years his career had defined his life. He was good with weaponry; had a talent for destruction. He liked his work and Starfleet valued him for his skills. He could loose it all if he pursued this relationship with Archer. 

But he didn't want to loose Archer either. Not only was Archer intelligent, amusing, and charming, but he was also a talented lover. Reed found Archer so very easy to love. And Jonathan Archer loved him back. The thought was sudden, simple, and almost blinding in its clarity. Jonathan Archer loved Malcolm Reed. Not his skills, not his professional abilities. Him. Reed's breath caught in his throat. "Oh, you great bloody fool." He whispered to himself. Why hadn't he seen it before? Why hadn't he understood? 

No matter what happened, there would always be someone who would value him for his professional abilities. But there would never be another Jonathan Archer. It was so simple. It was all so very simple after all.

___________________________________

Reed couldn't keep the smile off his face as he walked back to his quarters. His dread had evaporated and he was looking forward to what the evening would bring. Although his mood felt lighter than it had in days, he couldn't completely shake the stress of the week and of last night's brutal workout. His entire body ached and his headache had worsened dramatically. He regretted pushing himself so hard now, although at the time it had seemed like a good idea.

He glanced at the chronometer as he entered his quarters. He still had two hours before he was due to meet with Archer, more than enough time for a short nap before he had to get ready. He set the alarm, kicked off his boots and crawled into his bunk.

___________________________________

Archer sighed and knocked back the rest of his bourbon. It was close to midnight and he might as well give up. He thought about calling Reed over the comm, but what would be the point. Reed had given him his answer by simply not showing up at all. Why add insult to injury? He picked up the bourbon bottle and tipped it gently, first one way, then the other. For a long time he watched the amber liquid rock against the glass, rising and falling like a tiny captive sea. Suddenly he didn't want to be alone anymore. He stood and left, still carrying the bottle.

He had no destination in mind, but he wasn't surprised to find himself standing outside of Tucker's quarters. He hesitated only for a moment before ringing the chime. He didn't want to wake Tucker, but he found himself in desperate need of someone to talk to. It was a few moments before Tucker answered the door, disheveled by sleep. His face fell when he saw Archer standing in the corridor, bourbon in hand. 

"He said no, huh? I'm sorry. I really thought he'd..." 

"No. He didn't say no." 

"He didn't?" 

"No. He just didn't show up." Archer blinked rapidly against threatening tears. "He didn't even have the decency to say it to my face." A brief flash of anger passed over Tucker's face as he pulled Archer into his quarters. 

"You're kidding me?" 

"No." 

"Aw, hell, Jonny." 

"Guess I shouldn't have pushed him. I should have just been happy with what he was willing to give me." 

"Now don't you go blaming yourself. He shouldn't have left you hanging like that. You want me to go beat him up for you?" Tucker asked, only partly in jest. Archer gave a half-hearted laugh. 

"No, not really." He sighed and held up the bourbon. "Let's kill this bottle instead. It'll be less of a mess and we won't have to hide the body afterwards."

___________________________________

Archer's foul mood wasn't helped by his hangover the next morning and it became even worse when Reed didn't show up for the morning briefing. "Has anyone seen Lieutenant Reed this morning?" He asked icily. The question was met with an uneasy "no, sir" from both Sato and Mayweather.

"It is unlike the Lieutenant to be late." T'Pol said. "Perhaps we should..." 

"Perhaps we should continue this meeting." Archer broke in harshly. "We have better things to do than sit around and wait for Mr. Reed to show up." 

Archer sat in stony silence during the rest of the short tense meeting. His unfocused mind only half-attended what was being said. He staunchly ignored the concerned glances that Tucker kept sending him. As the meeting ended and his command staff started back to the bridge, Archer spoke again. 

"Sub-commander, if Mr. Reed decides to grace us with his presence have him come to my ready room." Archer's voice was cold with controlled fury. Sato flinched at the sound of it. She and Mayweather exchanged worried looks as they fled the room. 

"Of course, Captain." T'Pol said as she too exited. Tucker lingered. 

"Capt'n, let me handle this." He said quietly as soon as the door closed. 

"Damn it Trip! I can accept that he doesn't want to maintain a relationship with me, but I damn well expect him to show me the respect due to me as captain of this ship! I can't believe he would do something like this!" 

"I can't believe he'd do it either. But you need to let me handle this." 

"Like hell I will." 

"Capt'n..." 

"I won't tolerate insubordination from him!" 

"Capt'n..." 

"I should bust his ass back down to crewman second class!" 

"Capt'n!" Archer finally looked at Tucker. "You're too close to this. Let me handle him, okay?" 

"Fine!" Archer snapped. "You do it. I'm sick of dealing with him. But if he pulls a stunt like this again, he's off this ship. You make damn sure he understands that!" 

Tucker held up a placating hand. "I will. I'm not too happy with him right now, either. But, Capt'n, you need to calm down. Okay?" With visible effort, Archer reined in his temper. Tucker nodded once and went out onto the bridge. Only T'Pol looked up from her station. Tucker sighed. 

"Travis, can you tell me where Lieutenant Reed is?" Mayweather had obviously been anticipating the question. 

"In his quarters, sir." He replied in a subdued voice. "Uh, sir...?" the aborted question trailed off into silence. 

"Everything'll be fine, Travis." Tucker said desperately hoping that it was the truth.

___________________________________

Tucker rang the door chime again. "Come on." He muttered. "I know you're in there." He frowned at the door and then entered his override code. The room was dim but he could make out the dark shadow of Reed's form on the bunk. Tucker felt a stab of irritation. Of all the times for Reed to oversleep...He turned the lights on, but the sleeping man didn't stir.

"Lieutenant!" He shook Reed's shoulder roughly. 

"Uhhn..." Reed mumbled incoherently. 

"Come on, you need to get up. You overslept. The Captain's not happy that you missed the briefing this morning." Reed squinted against the bright light, clearly disoriented. 

"Commander?" he asked in a slurred voice. 

"Yes. Get up. Get dressed." Tucker went over to the wardrobe and started pulling out clean clothes tossing them at Reed. Reed sat up with a low moan, leaning forward to put his head in his hands. 

"C-commander? What time is it?" 

"Get up, damn it! What the hell's the matter with you? Have you been drinking?" 

"Drinking?" Reed echoed weakly. 

"Listen to me, Lieutenant." Tucker said coldly. "The Captain's on the warpath. You need to get up, get dressed and get your ass up to the bridge. Now!" 

His words finally seemed to be sinking in. Reed staggered to his feet and picked up the shirt that Tucker had thrown at him. He stared at it blankly. 

"Trip?" he asked faintly. "I don't..." Reed suddenly put a hand to his face. He swayed slightly, and then collapsed to the floor. 

"You better not be drunk or I'll bust you down to crewman myself." Tucker growled as he knelt next to Reed. He shook Reed's shoulder, trying to rouse him. There was no response and Reed's body felt disturbingly lifeless beneath his hand. "Come on, Malcolm, you're scaring me now." Tucker said as his fingers searched Reed's neck for a pulse. He found it racing far too fast under skin that was frighteningly hot. Tucker made sure Reed was still breathing then quickly rose and went to the comm. "Tucker to sickbay." 

"Phlox here." 

"Medical emergency, Lieutenant Reed's quarters." 

"On my way Commander." Tucker left the comm and grabbed the blanket off the bed. He draped it over Reed before checking the unconscious man's vital signs again. 

"Damn it, Malcolm. You always have to do things the hard way, don'tcha." Tucker muttered to his motionless friend.

___________________________________

"You found him?" Archer asked flatly.

"Yeah. I found him." Tucker hesitated slightly before continuing. "He wasn't doing so good. Had to take him to sickbay." 

"Fine. Let Phlox deal with him." 

"I don't think it's fine. He's sick, Jon. Real sick." A flicker of worry passed over Archer's face but was quickly hidden. Tucker hesitated again. "It might explain why he didn't show up last night." He added tentatively. The sudden flare of hope in Archer's eyes made him wish that he hadn't said it. After all, what if it wasn't true? "I think you should at least try to talk to him before...Hey, where are you going?" He said as Archer pushed past him. 

"Sickbay." Archer said. He found himself wanting to confirm what Tucker had just told him. He walked quickly through the corridors, but he wasn't completely ready for the sight that greeted him when he stepped into sickbay. 

Dr. Phlox was peering intently into his microscope. Beyond him, Archer could see Reed who was curled up on one of the biobeds, his head clutched in his hands. The sight sent a jolt of fear through Archer's heart. Reed moved fitfully as if trying desperately to find some position that would lessen his misery. His barely open eyes were narrow slivers of glassy gray surrounded by deep lines of pain. The sound of his ragged panting filled the room. 

"What's wrong with him?" Archer asked moving forward to anxiously grab Phlox by the arm. 

"It seems that Mr. Reed is experiencing the debilitating headaches and fever common to Lastrian Flu." 

"Why haven't you given him anything for it?" Archer asked angrily. "Can't you see he's in pain?" 

"Captain," Phlox replied sharply "I do not make my patients suffer needlessly. I had to confirm my diagnosis before administering any medication. Now, if you will unhand me, I will do my best to make him more comfortable." Archer let go of Phlox's arm as if burned. 

The doctor picked up a hypospray, made a small adjustment to the instrument, and then pressed it against Reed's neck. After a few moments Reed's restless movements ceased, his breath slowing and deepening into a more natural rhythm, his eyes sliding completely shut. Archer inched closer. Reed looked terrible. His face was flushed with fever. The medication Phlox had given him hadn't completely erased the lines of pain around his eyes and mouth. Sweat dampened locks of hair lay tumbled over his forehead and Archer had to resist the sudden urge to reach out and brush them back. 

"Excuse me, Captain." Phlox's voice startled him. He didn't remember moving so close to Reed's side and he took a careful step backward. Archer winced in sympathy as Phlox pushed an IV needle into Reed's arm, but Reed, who appeared to be either asleep or unconscious, gave no indication that he felt anything at all. 

Phlox finished his task of setting up the IV and then dimmed the lights over the bed. "Now then Captain," he said as he ushered Archer away from Reed's darkened corner of sickbay "I strongly suggest we vaccinate the rest of the crew before this spreads any further." 

"Yes. Of course." Archer said, his attention still on Reed. "Doctor," he asked hesitantly "how long has he been sick?" 

"Impossible to tell, really. The Lieutenant didn't seem ill when I saw him at lunch yesterday. However, Lastrian Flu can strike suddenly, and its early symptoms can be deceptively mild. By the time he realized he was actually ill, he may already have been incapacitated by the headaches and fever." 

"Is he going to be okay?" 

"Barring any complications he should be up and about in a week or so." 

"Complications? What kind of complications?" 

"On rare occasions the virus can invade the brain, leading to seizures, hallucinations, blindness or even death." 

"You're telling me he could die from this?" Archer jerked his attention away from Reed to focus on Phlox. 

"It's highly unlikely, Captain. But I would like to start vaccinating the rest of the crew immediately." 

"Yes." Archer said absently. "I'll have T'Pol set up a schedule right away." 

"Excellent. I'll start with you since you're here. If you'll come with me." Phlox led him over to an unoccupied biobed. The doctor pulled a vial of vaccine out of a drawer and fitted it into a hypospray. 

"When will he wake up?" Archer asked. 

"He'll wake when he's ready to." Phlox replied as he fussed with the hypospray. "Sleep is the best thing for him right now. Roll up your sleeve please." Archer obeyed and Phlox pressed the hypospray against his arm. "There you go. All set." Archer pulled down the sleeve and fixed his cuff. 

"You'll keep me informed of his condition?" 

"Of course, Captain."

___________________________________

Archer contemplated Reed with a mixture of frustration and concern. The sick man still looked terrible. The ruddiness of fever had given way to a pallor that was only emphasized by the dark stubble on Reed's face. "Come on, Malcolm" Archer said encouragingly "open your eyes." No response. "That's an order, Lieutenant." Still nothing. He sighed. Reed gave absolutely no indication that he would be waking up anytime soon. In fact, it didn't look like he had moved much at all in the four hours since Archer last saw him. Archer had to admit that it had been a battle to stay away that long. He desperately needed to talk to Reed--the sooner the better.

"Ah, Captain." Phlox's voice startled Archer. "I was just about to call you. Mr. Reed has been responding well to treatment. His fever broke a short time ago." 

"That's good. Has he been awake at all?" Archer asked trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. 

"No, but that's no cause for concern. As I said before, his body needs rest in order to recover. It would be best if we did not disturb him." Phlox latched onto Archer's arm and escorted him toward the doors. "Not to worry, Captain. I'll notify you as soon as he's awake." Archer took the not so subtle hint and left with as much grace as he could muster.

___________________________________

Reed woke with a start. What time was it? His heart pounded violently in his chest. He shouldn't have been sleeping. He was going to be late. He slid off the bed and waited for the world to stop spinning in such an annoying fashion. He noted absently that he was really wasn't dressed properly for a dinner date. He should change. But it was late.

He staggered toward the door, stopping short when something bit painfully at his arm. He looked down at the IV needle embedded in his flesh. That shouldn't be there. With a frown he pulled it out and dropped it. A thin stream of blood ran down his arm. It beaded briefly at his fingertips before dripping to the floor in dark droplets. He ignored it. He needed to leave now. Archer would be waiting and he didn't want to be late. 

He went out the doors and scowled at the corridor. This was all wrong. Why was he here? He took a moment to orient himself then started off toward Archer's quarters with unsteady but determined steps.

___________________________________

He rang the chime again, but the door remained stubbornly shut. He could hear Porthos barking sharply on the other side of the door, but there were no other sounds from within the cabin. His shaking legs wouldn't hold him anymore so he let himself slide down the door to sit on the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his aching head on his arms. He was too late. He had fucked up everything. Again.

___________________________________

"I'm sure he'll be fine." Tucker said. "He's come through a lot worse."

"I know, but what if he doesn't this time?" Archer said, pacing around in his ready room, ducking to avoid the low beams. 

"Don't go borrowing trouble, Jon. Now why don't you sit down before you..." 

"Phlox to Captain Archer." Archer lunged for the comm. 

"Archer here. Is he awake?" 

"I would assume so." Phlox replied sounding a little flustered. 

"What do you mean by that?" 

"Well, I was called away to deal with a small accident in the biology lab and it appears that Lieutenant Reed wandered away from sickbay during my absence. I was hoping that you could use the internal sensors to help me find him again. He really shouldn't be out of bed yet." 

"I'll find him." Archer said cutting the comm. He went out onto the bridge and over to the nearest station, nearly pushing Ensign Conners off of her chair in his haste to access the sensors. "Excuse me, Ensign." He said, putting an absent hand on her shoulder to steady her. He peered at the results of his query--B-deck, Section 12. Archer bolted for the lift, Tucker following close behind him.

___________________________________

"Malcolm! Malcolm? Are you okay?" Reed stirred and looked up blearily to see Archer jogging toward him.

"Jon." He mumbled in relief. "I thought I was late." 

"Late?" 

"For dinner." Reed said. "Thought I was going to be late for dinner. After my shift...wasn't feeling very good so I had a little lie down. Fell asleep. Didn't mean to." Reed peered up at Archer. "Not late, am I?" His voice held a note of anxiety. He pressed his hand against the door for support, and tried to stand, but couldn't muster the strength to do so. 

"No." Archer managed to get out as he sank down on his knees in front of Reed. "No, you're not late. You're just in time." 

"Good." Reed said giving Archer a sudden sleepy smile. Archer said nothing, only reached out to pull Reed into his arms. "Jon?" Reed said uncertainly. "What's wrong? Is Porthos sick again?" Archer pulled back from the embrace, and put a hand to Reed's forehead searching for signs of fever. He was relieved to find Reed's skin warm, but not overly hot. He let his hand drop back to Reed's shoulder. 

"No, Porthos isn't sick. But I'm worried about you. You should be in sickbay." 

"Sickbay? No. I'm fine. A little tired is all." He shook his head slightly. "I'm not good at this. Never been good at this, but I don't want to give up on us. I love you. I'm sorry it took me so long to understand. I want to make this work. Jon? Are you crying?" Reed asked lifting a hand to Archer's cheek. "Are you sure Porthos isn't sick?" 

"He's fine. I think we're all going to be fine now. Come on. Let's get you off this cold floor and into bed." 

"Thought we were going to have dinner first." Reed said with a drowsy smirk. Archer smiled and gently brushed a stray lock of hair back from Reed's forehead. 

"You're exhausted. I think dinner can wait for now. Trip, give me a hand, would you?" Reed, who hadn't been aware of Tucker's presence, blinked owlishly as Tucker helped Archer pull him up to his feet. 

"Trip's coming to bed with us?" Reed asked looking at Archer in bewilderment. Archer laughed as he dragged Reed's arm over his shoulder. 

"No. He's only helping me get you into bed. He won't be staying." 

"Oh. That's all right then. He said we were a river." 

"A river?" Archer asked. 

"Yes, isn't that lovely?" Reed sighed. 

"I'll tell you about it later, Capt'n." Tucker said with a grin. The two men maneuvered Reed through the door to Archer's quarters. Porthos trotted over to them, wagging his tail in greeting and bumping hazardously into legs until Archer order him to sit. 

Tucker supported Reed while Archer pulled off his boots and sat down on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard. "Give him here." Archer said. 

"I don't know. He's kind of cute all doped up like this. Maybe I should keep him." Tucker teased as he helped ease Reed down onto the bed. Archer pulled Reed to his chest, resting his cheek against his lover's dark hair. Reed sighed deeply and closed his eyes. 

"Go find your own armory officer, Trip. This one's mine." Archer's voice was light, but Tucker caught the slight quaver in it. He grinned as he draped a blanket over his friends. 

"Yeah, it looks like. You want me to call Phlox and let him know he's here?" Archer nodded. 

"Thanks, Trip." 

"Anytime." Tucker said as he let himself out of the room. 

"Phlox?" Reed murmured hazily against Archer's chest. "Don't think so. Rather share you with Trip than Phlox." Archer laughed until Reed poked him with a finger. "Stop that. 'M trying to sleep." 

"Don't worry, Malcolm." Archer said. "We're not going to share with anyone." 

"Good." Silence overtook them both. Archer was almost certain that Reed had fallen asleep, but then he stirred slightly in his arms. "Jon?" 

"Yes?" 

"I love you. I'm glad I wasn't late." Archer hugged Reed tightly. 

"I love you, too, Malcolm." Archer said, placing a soft kiss on Reed's forehead. "Go to sleep now. I'll be here when you wake up." 

~the end~


End file.
